


Far From Perfect

by AliciasClarke (fyeahgila)



Category: The Rolling Stones
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1970s, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Love Confessions, M/M, References to Depression, Rehabilitation, Sad, Sad and Sweet, Sad with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2020-08-14 15:16:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 73,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20194366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fyeahgila/pseuds/AliciasClarke
Summary: When Mick wakes up from a coma, he learns that he lost his pregnant fiancée in a car accident. However, their baby survived. Meanwhile, Keith is at the hospital, recovering because he nearly OD'd. As Mick isn't in any position to look after his baby, and Keith currently is lacking a real purpose in his life, a doctor makes an unlikely suggestion...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys,  
this is the tragic and sad story I recently mentioned. It's the most self-indulgent thing I have ever written and I mainly need to write this for myself to deal with things...  
I'm writing a lot as a therapeutical measure, diary, prose...now this story. I've had this plot on my mind since March cause I knew I was gonna need to write it eventually since it maybe might help me dealing with stuff. But I also don't just wanna project ALL of my emotions onto Mick's character in this story, idk if this would be too healthy either. Well, let's see where this is leading...I'm mainly just sharing this with you because I think some of you might apprecciate this story...it won't all be dark and tragic, it will get lighter and cuter, I promise...cause life needs to go on, the earth is still turning, even after losing someone that dear. 
> 
> The work title is from a song by Rise Against.

Bright headlights inexorably getting closer. The tremendous impact of the inevitable crash. Then nothing but darkness.

The first thing Mick realised was a beeping occurring in regular intervals, as well as a weird bubbling sound. Paired with the stale, clean smell of disinfectant, it slowly started dawning on him that he must be at a hospital. He seemed like in a haze, his head was dull, his eyelids heavy and his whole body felt like he had been run over repeatedly. Most of the pain he felt in his ribcage and in his right leg. Everything seemed incredibly difficult to move, so he didn't even try it. After a while, it could have been five minutes or fifty, eventually he managed to open his eyes. The light flooding into the room was way too bright and he immediately pressed them shut again because they were stinging and his head started aching quite badly. Only after a while he managed to take another probing look, just slowly adjusting to the brightness of the room. From what he could gather, however, it seemed like he was in the ICU, at least all the monitors made him think so, as well as the fact that he was in a single room. Only now he noticed the cable draped over his face, assisting him with breathing by blowing oxygen into his nose. He didn't know where exactly the bubbling was coming from, apparently from somewhere to his left, but it must be the oxygen being processed. 

"Mr. Jagger, you're awake!", a nurse, who had just entered the room to check on him, all but yelled, looking quite astounded. 

"How are you feeling?", she asked him as she came closer, pressing his right hand. He didn't quite know what to say, hadn't even a clue why he was there, at least he didn't have time to think further about this before the nurse had walked in. 

"Uh...water", he eventually managed to croak as he realised how dry his mouth felt. Like he hadn't drank anything in days. The nurse was quick to offer him a plastic cup that he didn't manage to hold himself because he could barely lift his arm. He simply was too weak and it was like his muscles didn't comply to what he wanted them to do. 

"What happened?", he wanted to know once his mouth didn't feel like sandpaper anymore. 

"I'll let the doctor know that you woke up, she's gonna tell you", the nurse meant. "Just a moment", she added before leaving the room again and Mick was left with the beeping machines of which one was connected to him via some odd plastic thing on his finger and another by cables that were connected to his chest. 

There wasn't even time to think about what exactly happened, how he got there, in that hospital bed, before a doctor stepped into the room and introduced herself as Doctor Sterling. He couldn't quite recall what had happened to him, his mind felt heavy and incredibly slow, it already was a huge challenge to even keep his eyes open. 

At first the doctor did some checks on him, testing reflexes, how hard he could press her hand, checking the dilation of his pupils and if he could feel her poking the soles of his feet. Everything seemed to be to her liking because she looked quite pleased, but Mick felt way too exhausted to pay attention to everything the doctor was saying. She told him something about breaking his right leg and a couple of ribs, of which one punctured his lung and he had to get surgery for that. In addition to this he suffered from a severe whiplash and concussion. 

"I'm going to need to ask you some questions next to test your memory", Doctor Sterling explained and Mick just nodded, though immediately regretting it because it didn't do too well for his aching head. 

At first she just asked him easy things, like his full name, what year it was, what street he was living in. He didn't have any trouble answering these questions, even though it was getting increasingly tough for him to keep up enough focus to follow her. 

"What's the last thing you do remember, Mr. Jagger? From before you woke up here?", Doctor Sterling asked him next. 

"I…", he started, completely confused, because he actually hadn't even asked himself this question yet and didn't have time to think about it so far. He was way too out of it. Must be the morphine he was getting, according to the doctor. 

"There was...I don't know...what happened?", he wanted to know, wishing he could just go back to sleep, because it was so hard to concentrate on anything. 

"There has been a car accident...do you remember that? Or anything else?", the doctor helped him out and at these words, Mick's poor, battered mind started racing, his thoughts galloping away from him, too fast for him to keep on track with his words. 

"Bright lights...Tessa? Oh god, what about Tessa? And the baby? What about them?", he all but panicked as everything came down on him all at once. 

They'd been on a weekend trip to the countryside, wanting to leave London and the bustle of the big city behind for a few hours. Mick had wanted for his fiancée to come down a little, just relax, go for a walk, have lunch at a nice local pub in some small village. He'd thought that she totally could need that, after all she was almost eight months pregnant and their first baby would be due in a few weeks. Then they'd both have more than enough on their hands. 

They hadn't planned on having a baby yet, it just happened. But after they found out, they'd both been so incredibly happy and excited and couldn't wait to become parents and raise their kid together. Mick had proposed to Tessa when she was in the second month, because he wanted to do everything properly, wanted to get married, be a good father. But she'd wanted to wait with the wedding until after the baby was born, joking that otherwise it would be even harder to find the perfect dress. 

Their little trip had been a lot of fun, during their walk among beautiful wildflower meadows they'd come across a family walking their dog. Tessa had found it so incredibly cute that she basically had begged him to get a dog as well one day so their kid could grow up having that experience like she did herself as a child. Obviously she wouldn't even have needed to persuade him that profoundly because as soon as he'd seen how happy and eager she was about that prospect, there was not a single thing he could think of saying to turn her down. He remembered looking at her beautiful, smiling face, thinking how much he loved her and that he couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life with her. The next thing he recalled was driving back to London and then nothing but darkness. 

"Mr. Jagger, please, you've got to stay calm. I'll give you some of these, it'll help calming you down", Doctor Sterling meant, putting a hand on his shoulder, while holding out a little white pill for him with her other hand. He opened his mouth, then she helped him to drink some water to flush it down, but obviously it didn't work that quickly. So he still felt panic rising inside of him. Because he had no clue what happened to Tessa, and what about their baby? He had to know that they were alright and safe. He needed to see them. 

"What happened? Where's my fiancée?", he kept on asking, the sudden rush of adrenaline drowning out his fatigue, making him all antsy. 

"Mr. Jagger...you had this car accident about three weeks ago. You've been in a coma ever since", the doctor told him and he couldn't believe what he was hearing. It couldn't be right. 

"What...what ...three weeks? What did I...what happened?", he stammered, getting dizzy from this new piece of information overwhelming him and he felt sick in his guts. It was barely comprehensible that he should have been out of it for three whole weeks. But it would at least explain why his muscles felt this stiff and useless and why he was so incredibly drained of energy. Yet he couldn't believe that he was just lying around for three weeks, not able to do anything or realise what was going on around him. 

"I'm so sorry to have to inform you about this, but your fiancée passed away due to her grave injuries", Doctor Sterling mentioned further and even though Mick clearly understood her, he didn't get it. There was no way this actually happened. Tessa couldn't be gone. It all had to be a dream. Maybe he'd fallen back asleep, or back into coma, or maybe all of this was just a really bad dream. He just knew that this couldn't be right, this couldn't be happening. There needed to be another explanation. 

"But your daughter is fine, Mr. Jagger. We could deliver her in time. She was a few weeks early, but by now she developed really well already", she went on, but Mick could only hear her voice faintly, as if she was in the next room and not right beside him. It was like his brain was working in slow motion all of a sudden and that nothing he came up with as an explanation made sense in the slightest. The only thing he was thinking over and over again was 'This cannot be right, this isn't true, Tessa cannot be gone'. 

"Mr. Jagger, do you need us to call someone? Some family members?", the nurse asked now, but Mick didn't care. There was no one he wanted here right now, no one who could make it anyway. He didn't have any siblings, his dad was long gone, left him and his mum when Mick was still a little boy. And his mother had health issues that prevented her from making the four hour trip down to London. She couldn't even leave the house and walk to the bakery down the street without popping some pain killers first. That's why she lived at her sister's in Manchester so she could assist her. Because they'd always been very close and because Mick's mother didn't want him to arrange his whole life around her. She hadn't wanted to be a burden for him when he was about to get married and have a baby.

"Where's Tessa?", he heard himself asking, not aware that he'd even opened his mouth. He had to be dreaming. It was the only logical explanation. There simply was no other way, she couldn't be gone. He would know it, feel it if she wasn't there anymore. She couldn't be gone. Not like that. Not without him even knowing about it. He had to see her again. 

"Her parents came down from Glasgow and took her home to bury her there in her family's grave", the doctor informed him and his chest painfully contracted at these words. This couldn't be true. None of this could be true. 

"No...no, no, this can't be", he vehemently shook his head, even though it was already aching worse than before. "Please, she's gotta be here. I've got to see her, please let me see her!", he all but begged while it became increasingly harder for him to breathe. It felt like the air was being crushed out of his lungs and his chest tightened more and more. 

"I'm so sorry, this isn't possible...what can we do for you, is there anyone we can inform? We already called your mother but she let us know her knee problems make it too difficult to travel here. She calls twice a day, though, asking how you and your daughter are because she is so worried about you", Doctor Sterling told him but he didn't care. 

"I need to talk to Tessa's parents. This...I...I don't believe this", he started sobbing now, his body trembling with nerves and he still couldn't breathe properly. It almost felt like he was hyperventilating. 

"I...I cannot breathe…", he only got out, as the doctor already requested the nurse to go and fetch her some syringe. 

"Here, this will help you", she explained, taking his arm in order to inject him with whatever medicine she thought could help. However, Mick thought that there wasn't a single thing in the world that could make this any better. He was still crying, trying to make sense of what he'd just learned, but it was incomprehensible. There was no logic, no reasoning that could explain why all of this had happened. He simply couldn't, didn't want to believe that his fiancée wasn't with him any longer. 

"Is there anybody else we could try reaching for you?", the nurse piped in after a moment. Mick felt incredibly tired by now, whatever had been in that syringe actually might have done its work. It already had been tough keeping his eyes open before, but now it was getting a real challenge to not just fall right back asleep. 

"What about our baby?", he mumbled instead of answering, actually yawning. His eyelids were so heavy. He couldn't stay focused any longer. Nothing made any sense. 

"She's on the pediatrics station. Do you want us to bring her to you later?", Doctor Sterling offered.

"Can I...can I talk to...Tessa's parents first?", he wanted to know, blinking his eyes back open, not able to think straight anymore. 

He could barely recall all the things that had just been said to him. The only thing he knew, but couldn't understand, was that Tessa was gone. Also he'd heard the doctor's prior reply but hadn't processed it yet. He had been in a coma. Their baby was fine. Tessa was gone. It had been three weeks. They'd had a baby girl. Tessa was dead. But the baby was alright. While these thoughts were whirling through his mind, too intense and too overwhelming to understand, he lost consciousness, drifting off into nothingness, being engulfed by sweet oblivion. 

When he next regained consciousness again, for the first few seconds he didn't recall where he was or what had happened. This state lasted way too shortly though and soon it all came crashing down on him again. He'd been in a coma for three weeks. Tessa wasn't there anymore. They couldn't save her. He was a father now, but he'd have to raise their baby girl by himself. It couldn't be true. He didn't want it to be true. Before he could do or say anything else, he was overpowered by tears once more. He was sobbing heavily, his body rocking in bed even though he was lying down and he just couldn't calm himself. His cheeks were wet and his eyes were burning, he could barely lift his arm to reach for a tissue on the nightstand beside the hospital bed to blow his nose. The worst was that the tears simply didn't stop, his breathing became shallow and his throat started aching but he couldn't stop. As long as he was crying, he felt nothing else but this endless desperation engulfing him. But eventually he could sense a hand on his upper arm and a soft voice talking to him in a calming manner. He didn't understand a word that was said, but then someone - apparently another nurse - made him swallow another little white pill. After some more minutes spent drenched in tears, he eventually realised that he was starting to get calmer. 

"Is there anything I could do for you? Bring you a cup of tea? Do you want to try some food? You missed lunch earlier but I could…", the nurse babbled after a while, but Mick didn't really care to listen. He wasn't hungry anyway. Getting some food probably was the last thing on his mind.

"...or do you want to see your daughter? I could bring her to you if you'd like?"

"I...no, not now…", he meant because he didn't feel in any condition to meet his baby girl yet. He was so shaken up by everything that he couldn't even be excited about the first time he'd get to see his daughter. Not when there was something else he needed to do first that he just couldn't get off of his mind. 

It was unnerving, making a phone call while the nurse had to hold the speaker for him because he couldn't manage on his own yet. He was way too jittery, his arm muscles still didn't do what he wanted them to. Also he was in complete disbelief and denial. He wouldn't, couldn't, accept that Tessa was gone. He had to hear it from her mother or father to believe it. Even though logically seen there was no reason why the doctor and the nurses should be lying to him. But he just couldn't grasp it. He didn't understand. It was incomprehensible. There was no way this could be happening and he felt like sleepwalking in a nightmare. 

"McCullough", Tessa's father answered the phone after the fourth ring. 

"Richard...hey, this is Mick", he managed to say, his voice still stained with his prior tears. 

"What do you want?", came the rough answer, making him get a little confused and self-aware. Tessa's father could never really stand him, but he'd never been that stand-offish with him before. 

"What about Tessa? Is it true?", Mick got out eventually, though he didn't even want to think of this possibility. But he just had to ask. He needed Tessa's father to tell him. But he didn't get a reply at first. Instead just silence at the other end of the line. 

"Rich?"

"I can't believe you dare asking me that…", Tessa's father finally answered and Mick could literally feel the lump forming in his throat that made it hard for him to swallow. 

"Is it true?…", he still repeated, he knew it probably was rather challenging, but he needed to hear it. 

"We brought her home, buried her, after you...", Richard's voice broke in the end and Mick could literally imagine him trying to keep his composure. At the same time he felt new tears stinging in his eyes, because now he finally had clarity. He knew that this would be the reply but he'd still hoped it wouldn't. Nevertheless his comprehension was lacking. There was no way he could understand this, even though it clearly was the truth. 

"No...no…", he stammered, unable to say anything else. It couldn't be. Not Tessa. Not now. Not like this. It was hard for him not to outright start sobbing again, as tears were already streaming down his cheeks.

"You took our girl away from us", Richard finally accused him and Mick almost forgot how to breathe. It was a blow like a heavy punch right in the face. 

"No...Rich...I didn't...I...I couldn't do anything...I'm so sorry", he tried to argue and explain but there wasn't really a lot he could say. He didn't recall what happened. So far he hadn't even thought about this possibility. What if it actually all had been his fault? What if because of him, his little girl had to grow up without her mum now? What if he had injured even more people? All these thoughts were almost too unbearable to even think about them and he noticed his head starting to spin once more. 

"You're the reason our daughter is dead", Richard outright accused him now and Mick felt sick in his guts, like he almost was about puking. What if he was right?

"I didn't know...I didn't...I...I'm so sorry…", is all he could stammer, there was nothing be could reply to an accusation like that. 

"Your sorry doesn't bring her back to us!", came the angry and frustrated reply. 

"I couldn't do anything about it…", he cried, feeling as horrible as he'd never felt before in his whole life. 

"You were driving!"

"I...I don't know what happened...I'm so so sorry, Richard…", he tried again, as his mind was still spinning, trying to figure out or remember what actually had happened. But he just couldn't recall it. 

"You'd better be…"

"I loved her...I love her...I could never hurt her", Mick cried even harder now, not sure if his words could actually be understood. By now he didn't even care anymore that the nurse was right there beside him, still holding the speaker for him. He also didn't even realise the worried look on her face because his eyes were blurry with tears. 

"Well, you killed her", Richard finally said, before Mick heard the clicking sound of the phone being put down. 

"...Rich?", he dared asking after a moment, although he knew that the line was dead. 

If he held the speaker himself, he probably would have dropped it. Since the nurse was doing it for him, he just shook his head, pressing a hand to his face as he broke out in desperate sobs yet again, not able to hold back any longer. It was all too much, way too much and he couldn't bear any of it. He was crying and shaking so hard now, starting to scream everything out, all of his pain and desperation and sorrow. He screamed so much his throat started hurting and he tossed around until he could feel more than just one pair of hands on him, trying to hold him down. Then, he felt the sting of a needle and something getting injected into his upper arm. After this, everything around him suddenly seemed like clouded in cotton and eventually it all faded to black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
here's the 2nd chapter already. Idk yet how far writing this is helping me, or if it's rather writing diary which is helpful, let's see...  
The next chapter will be from Keith's perspective then!

He couldn't remember waking up next, all he knew was being in tears again as soon as his brain started catching up on the things that he'd found out earlier that day. It was insane, come to think of it, that he didn't even know, nor really care right that moment, what date or what time it was because nobody had informed him of that, he only knew that he'd been in a weeks long coma. Therefore he'd been completely unaware of the fact that there had been a fatal car accident that cost the life of his fiancée, but he was a father now. 

"What happened? I need to know what happened...did I...did I cause the accident?", he choked out, tears and snot running over his face and he was glad for the tissue some nurse handed him. He had no clue when she had appeared at his bedside, everything was a total haze. It all felt completely surreal, maybe also due to the pain medication in his system and all the tranquilizers he'd gotten before. 

"I need to talk to the police...they know right? They know what happened? What about the other car? Did I kill anybody else?", he felt new panic rising inside him as he spoke out all these questions that had formed in his mind during the prior phone call with Tessa's father. Mick could still hear his accusing, bitter voice in his head. The absolute worst thing about it was that he simply didn't know whether it was the truth, since he couldn't remember anything at all about the accident. It was like the most cruel torture, not knowing whether he was responsible for all of this. Whether he was the reason that Tessa was gone and that their little girl would never get to know her mum. But even if it hadn't been his own fault, how could he ever get over this? How was it fair that he was still here, while Tessa wasn't? That she'd never get to see their daughter growing up.

"There is no need for that, Mr. Jagger. You didn't do anything wrong. It's been proven that the driver of the other car lost control over his vehicle due to having an asthma attack. If you want me to I could organise you some newspaper articles to read about it?", the nurse offered and Mick only understood half of it. 

"I didn't...I wasn't responsible?", he finally got out, his mind still racing and his head already started aching again. It all was too much. 

"It was an accident", the nurse affirmed him. 

"But why…", he started, not really sure what to say or how to formulate his question. 

"It all was just the worst coincidence. It's nobody's fault…", the nurse continued to try and calm him down. 

"But Tessa's father…"

"Oh, Mr. McCullough...it was really bad when they came here to take their daughter home. He was completely under shock and insulted everyone around. We almost had to call security because he went after the surgeon who performed the operation and couldn't save her", the nurse explained and Mick nodded lightly even though he still couldn't comprehend it. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Tessa should be gone, that there shouldn't be a possibility for him to ever see her again. 

"I still don't understand...I want to see her...I just want to see her again…", he mumbled, pressing his hand flat against his forehead because his headache was getting worse. 

"I cannot help you out here...but I could bring your daughter. Do you want to meet your little girl?", the nurse offered in a lighter tone. 

"I don't know…", Mick muttered, indifferently. Actually he didn't want to do anything at all. There was only one thing he wanted. To see Tessa. But he couldn't. Not anymore. Anything else didn't really matter. Not anymore. He didn't know how to go on from here. He was still bound to the bed due to his injuries, but once he would get released from the hospital he'd have to take care of an infant by himself and had not a single clue how to do it all alone. At the moment he didn't possess the energy to figure out how. He didn't even have the energy to sit up in bed for longer than a few minutes. 

"I understand that all of this is very tough for you, Mr. Jagger. A loss like that is always painful, but…"

"No, you don't understand...I didn't even know! I couldn't do anything, I couldn't help her, I couldn't even be there, when she...I was just lying here, completely bloody useless and I didn't know anything and couldn't do anything…", he disrupted the nurse, getting more agitated. Deep down he knew that it was her job to calm him down and reassure him, but he didn't want to hear any of it. 

"You should talk to a psychologist about this. I'll inform one of those we have around at the hospital so that someone will stop by soon, once you were transferred from the ICU to the ward for inner medicine", the nurse suggested next.

"I don't need a shrink", he returned almost stubbornly. It didn't occur to him how it would make him feel better to talk to someone about all of this. There was nothing that could make any of it better. The only thing he wanted, he could never have again. 

"It will help you", she meant, but it only made Mick get angrier. 

"Don't tell me what will help me", he all but snapped, wishing he could just turn onto his side, facing away from her to show her that he was done here and she should leave him alone. But he couldn't do so without any assistance since his ribs were aching and he felt way too weak to move around that much on his own. The doctor had explained to him that during his coma he had been slightly moved every couple hours in order to not develop bedsores. 

"Maybe it will be good for you to see your baby", the nurse tried further as if she wasn't impressed by his mood in the slightest. 

"Don't tell me what would be good for me either...", he just grumbled, putting both of his hands over his face, sighing in annoyance, wishing she'd just leave and give him his peace. All he wanted was to be left alone. He'd lost the person he loved the most and he didn't even have some space or time yet to properly think about it or try to process any of what had happened. Yet he wasn't sure whether he actually could and wanted to think about any of it. It was already bad enough as it was and he was feeling incredibly miserable without diving deeper into it. 

"Mr. Jagger...your daughter is almost three weeks old now, she only weighed 1800 grams when she was born and we didn't know whether she'd make it at all for the first few days. But she pulled through so far and she's growing and she's beautiful, but she's all alone…", she now told him. 

"Yeah because her mum's gone...and she'll never get to know her", he replied as he felt new tears stinging in his eyes. 

"But her dad is right here. You're right here and she needs you. Please, just let me bring her to you", the nurse tried to persuade him and as her words finally got through to him, stirring a nerve, he eventually nodded slightly in agreement. Tessa might be gone, but their baby survived. The little one was as much a part of her as she was a part of himself and maybe the only remaining connection he had left to his fiancée. 

When the nurse pushed in a small baby bed a short while later, Mick actually sat up in his own bed as far as he could, his healing ribs stinging in his chest. As she was close enough for him to see, his breath caught in his throat at the sight. In this small baby bed, wrapped up in white linen, a tiny little being was peacefully sleeping, her little hands formed to lose little fists. 

"She's so small", he whispered almost in awe, as a warm feeling was spreading inside his chest and he actually felt the tiniest of smiles tugging at his lips. His baby girl was alive and well and so incredibly beautiful. 

"Do you want to hold her?" 

"I...I don't know if I can...I don't want to let her slip or hurt her", he returned, feeling a bit insecure about it. He didn't quite trust his arm muscles yet, after not having used them in weeks. His baby was the most important thing in his life now, he knew that with an unprecedented certainty, even though he'd just seen her for the very first time. It was his responsibility to be there for her and protect her, always. 

"If you don't feel well enough, you could rest a little more and try tomorrow?", the nurse suggested and Mick only nodded in reply. 

"Did you and your fiancée get to pick out a name for her?", she wanted to know next, as Mick couldn't tear his eyes off his sleeping daughter. She was perfect in every way and it was almost like a wonder that she was there, that she had survived. 

"Yeah, we did", he remembered fondly, but already felt new tears welling up in his eyes at the memory. "It's Mona...we want to call her Mona." It had been Tessa's idea to name their baby like that if it was a girl and he'd loved it right away. For a boy they'd agreed on Leo. 

"It's a really pretty name."

"Thanks...could you..maybe hold her closer? I'd like to see her closer", Mick asked then, trying to shift into a better sitting position, but it only made his chest hurt. 

"Of course", the nurse smiled and carefully picked up the baby, stepping closer to Mick's bed with her, holding her so that he could have a better look. 

Almost anxiously and slow from exhaustion he lifted up an arm and stretched it out, softly running only two fingers over his daughter's tiny head. She had a few little strands of blonde hair and seemed totally unfazed by everything happening around her. He started smiling lightly as he studied Mona's facial features, figuring she had his full lips. But only a moment later, the smile faltered on his face again as he realised something else. 

"Tessa...did she get a chance to see her?", he wanted to know, looking up at the nurse for clarification. 

"I'm not familiar with her medical history, I'm sorry. But I'll let a doctor know to inform you and answer all of your remaining questions", she gave back and even though he wasn't satisfied at all with this reply, there was nothing he could do about it. It was too late now anyway. Even though he still couldn't completely comprehend it, deep down he knew that Tessa wasn't coming back anymore. 

As he continued to observe his sleeping daughter, gently trailing over her tiny hands with just his index finger, she actually started stirring awake. At first she only made soft little noises, then she actually grabbed for his finger with her tiny right hand, before slowly opening her eyes. Mick's heart almost skipped a beat, looking at his baby looking back at him for the first time. Mona had her mother's hazel eyes, exactly the same form and shade. While this was probably one of the most amazing and wonderful experiences he has ever made in his life, simultaneously it also was one of the worst. It made his heart ache in pain, knowing that even though their baby had Tessa's eyes, he'd never see hers again. He'd never see her again.

"Hey, baby girl", was the only thing he got out before bitter, desperate tears were streaming down his cheeks and he couldn't suppress a sob escaping him. 

"I can't...I can't do this…", he choked out between even more sobs, putting a hand over his face.

"Do you want me to take her back to pediatrics?", the nurse asked as Mona started getting a little restless, apparently startled by Mick bursting out in tears. 

He simply nodded in reply because he couldn't get out a word. His throat felt like he was being choked and he thought that he'd never felt more miserable and more lonely in all his life. Meeting his newborn child for the very first time should have been a special, an extraordinary moment. And it was, it definitely was. But at the same time, it was a reminder as well that he was all alone with her. That all the plans and all the dreams he had with Tessa were crushed now. They'd never be the family they so excitedly had wanted to be. There wouldn't be yet another kid anymore. Mona would be an only child and never have a mum. Mick hadn't only lost his fiancée, his lover, his best friend. It felt like a part of him had forcefully been removed and now was missing forever, leaving a hole in his heart that he wasn't sure could ever be filled again. 

Exhaustion and desperation had eventually knocked him out. The next time, he realised a nurse coming into the room to check on him, it was the next morning. He only figured so because outside of the window it was lighter than it had been before he drifted off into a dreamless sleep. And also because the nurse greeted him with an encouraging: "Good morning, Mr. Jagger!"

He had no clue how anybody working at a hospital could be that enthusiastic, but he didn't particularly care either. As an answer, he just mumbled something incomprehensible. 

"How are you feeling today?"

Mick just shrugged in reply. There was no way he could put into words how he was feeling, there was no way to describe the emptiness and despair that had settled in his chest like a heavy burden. There was no easy way to expect of him to simply accept that his fiancée was gone forever and there wasn't any possibility at all for him to ever see her again. He'd never be able to talk to her, or touch her again. He could never see her beautiful smile or hear her voice again, never see the wind messing up her auburn locks anymore. He'd never again hold her hand, or kiss her, or hug her close to himself while lying wrapped up in bed after making love. The only thing left of her were memories that would become less accurate and pictures that would also fade with time. Saying that he felt anything but incredibly sad and deeply unsettled would be an outright lie. 

"The doctor will be coming around soon to check on you and answer all the questions you might still be having", the nurse let him know but he didn't really listen. 

He already could feel tears stinging in his eyes once again just from remembering Tessa's smile. She hadn't been flawless, of course not, but who ever was? She'd been perfect in her very own way and when thinking of all the little things that made her who she was, he could barely stand the knowledge that everything would be over now. That nothing would ever be how it used to be. That there were so many things she wouldn't be a part of anymore and that he would have to go on without her by his side. It hurt so much he almost couldn't breathe and he didn't give a damn what the nurse was telling him because it didn't matter to him anyway. 

"In the meantime, would you want to get a little washed up and then have some breakfast? You don't need that intravenous nutrition anymore now that you're awake from the coma", she added. 

"I'm not hungry…", is all he got out, his bottom lip quivering as a tear ran down his cheek. 

"Should I bring you a face cloth and water so you can try to wash your face by yourself, and then maybe also brush your teeth? You need to get your arms working again." He just shrugged once more because he couldn't care less. 

"What day is it?", he asked instead. Knowing it wouldn't make much of a difference either, but he felt like he needed to get some grip back on reality. Everything seemed oddly surreal. Like the world around him had suddenly stopped turning, even though he knew exactly that obviously it hadn't. Outside of his mind, outside of this room, this hospital, life was going on as usual. But for him nothing would be anymore as it used to. 

"Tuesday, 17th May", came the answer and he simply nodded. 

"When was Mona born?"

"I don't know, you'll have to ask the doctor that", the nurse gave back and he just hummed in reply. "Do you want me to help you with washing?", she added then and Mick sighed.

"Will you leave me be then?", he wanted to know, mildly annoyed. 

On one hand, it was outrageous, having to lie there in that hospital bed, not really able to do much by himself. On the other, he almost didn't care. If it were up to him, he could just be lying there, doing nothing at all, it didn't make a difference anyway. It wouldn't bring Tessa back to him. A little voice in the back of his head tried to persuade him, however, that he needed to pull himself together for Mona. But for now it was being drowned out by the utter desperation he was feeling which left him almost paralysed. 

Once he was all cleaned up nicely with the help of the nurse and dressed in a new hospital gown, he didn't feel any better, just worse because everything was hurting from moving around. After the nurse had offered him some more water to drink and asked him if he needed anything else, which he declined, she finally left the room. He wasn't left alone with his spiralling thoughts for long, however. Soon after, a doctor stepped inside, carrying a small folder under his arm. He introduced himself as Doctor Orson and then asked him some general questions about his condition, before doing some routine checks on him, taking some notes. 

"Everything looks okay so far, actually you'll get to leave ICU today and be placed into the ward for internal medicine", Doctor Orson explained. "Later a physiotherapist will check on you and try to show you first exercises to mobilise you again. We want to get you out of this bed and into a wheelchair as soon as possible." 

"Can you tell me about Tessa? Are you the doctor who performed surgery on her?", Mick wanted to know, not even having properly listened to what the doctor had explained before. 

"I am, yes. I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Jagger. My team and I tried everything to save your wife's life…"

"We weren't married yet...we never will be…", Mick disrupted him, a heavy lump settling in his throat at the realisation. He'd never get to stand in front of the altar with Tessa, never see her in her wedding dress, never exchange rings and call her his wife. 

"I'm sorry. She had severe internal injuries and already had lost a lot of blood by the time she got here. It's truly a wonder that your daughter wasn't hurt either. She was five weeks early, though and way too light. But during the past three weeks she developed quite well. Did you get to see her yet?"

"Yeah...she's beautiful", he whispered, his voice thick with held back tears. "Did Tessa get to see her?"

"She was unconscious and then under narcotics the whole time we were trying to save her. We first delivered your baby and then continued the surgery to stop the bleeding in her abdomen but it was too much...she bled out and we lost her", Doctor Orson told him and it felt so odd to Mick, almost disengaged, like listening to someone else's story, not to what happened to his fiancée. 

"What day was it?", he continued asking after a moment he took to take some deep breaths because he felt his heart getting heavy. 

"28th of April."

"So that's Mona's birthday?", he figured, a lonely tear slipping from his eye and rolling down his cheek. 

"Yes. Once we put you in the other room, do you want to see your daughter then?", the doctor suggested next. 

"Will she stay with me there?", he wanted to know. 

"She'll be better cared for on the pediatrics ward. We've got everything there that she needs and there are especially trained nurses who only care for newborns. But you'll be able to see her every day if you want to. And once you're out of the bed and able to drive around in a wheelchair, you can go visit her there." 

"I'll also send a psychologist up to check on you eventually. It might help you to talk to someone about everything that happened", Doctor Orson concluded. 

"I don't need a shrink", Mick gave back, quite stubbornly. He didn't like the thought of having to break down every single one of his emotions to somebody he didn't even know. 

"We just want to offer you some help in this situation. It'll get easier with time. You've got your daughter to care for, focus on her, she needs you", Doctor Orson reminded him, before leaving him in the ICU room and Mick sunk back onto his pillows feeling utterly desperate and confused.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
Thanks for reading, liking, commenting. Since the drive behind this story is so deeply personal, obviously I am flattered that you want to read this. This new chapter is a little lighter at the end, hope you enjoy that! I mkst certsinly loved writing this and I cannot wait to continue, I already had some ideas for the next chapter :)

The room he had been brought to after they dismissed him from ER was disgustingly bright. Sunlight was flooding inside through the huge window and the walls were painted in a sunny yellow tone. Keith actually had to ask one of the nurses who'd pushed his bed to please close the curtains a little, or otherwise his head might explode. All his senses were still very sensitive and everything felt too much, like a complete overload. He was having the worst headache, was feeling sick in his guts and was incredibly sleepy. They'd hooked him up with some infusion, containing liquids he'd last heard of in chemistry class at school, telling him it should help with all the effects he was experiencing due to his overdose. 

The last thing he remembered before opening his eyes in the ER, some doctors leaning over him, was that he'd been tripping with his best mate, Ronnie and some other blokes the night before. They'd already been trying out stuff together for ages, whatever they could get their hands on. Starting out with hashish, acid, amphetamines, LSD, coke, eventually they had ended up with morphine and heroin. Although this had been a more recent development, it was a treacherous, very dangerous one. They'd definitely underestimated what they'd get themselves into and it got harder and harder to stay in control. He couldn't quite recall all the events from the previous night. All he remembered was being desperate and worked up and so badly in need and then he'd shot up some stuff. His muscles started cramping up and spasming, before he'd blacked out almost immediately. Ronnie, or one of the other lads, must have still been clear enough to call an ambulance, since a doctor told him that he'd been very lucky to have been admitted this fast or otherwise the overdose might have been fatal. 

He was way too exhausted from the shit still in his system to remember exactly what the doctor had told him. But it certainly had involved an urgent plea to go through rehab and something about getting him started on substitute opioids for now to slowly wear him off the real stuff. Keith had almost drifted off into some state between sleep and haze, as the door to the hospital room opened and some nurse said something about him getting a roommate. Actually he couldn't care less about it, so he didn't even bother opening his eyes and just let himself get overpowered by fatigue. 

The next time Keith came to his senses, he could hear a bloke talking, explaining something he couldn't quite grasp in his dazzled state. Upon lightly turning his head to the left, which almost made him get dizzy and feel nauseous, he could see a male nurse or doctor with the other patient in his room, making him lift up his arms. His foggy mind was way too slow to put together that it wasn't in fact a nurse or doctor, but apparently a physiotherapist, working with the man in the other bed. Since he felt like absolute crap and the light in the room was still too bright for his likes, he simply closed his eyes again, unnoticed by the two other men. It didn't take too long until a sleepy haze had engulfed him anew. 

The noise ripping him out of his dreamless sleep was ongoing crying. The cries of a small baby, as he recognised after a moment. For his battered brain, it was way too loud and way too annoying and he wished it would just stop so he could go back to rest. Thankfully, the next thing he realised, was someone stepping inside the room, probably a nurse. He heard her talking to the other patient and then to the baby, but couldn't quite focus on the words she was saying. A short moment later, the crying softened. However, Keith's mind was feeling too mushy to comprehend whether it was because the baby had calmed down, or was being taken away. The only thing he cared about anyway, was that his headache was quieting down as well and he simply let himself drift off once more. 

It was dark outside and all very quiet when Keith awoke because he felt like his bladder was almost bursting. Disoriented, he sat up in his bed, looking around in the dark room. There was only a weak streak of light falling in through the slit at the bottom of the door to his right, the curtains of the windows apparently closed. He needed a few seconds to remember where he was and what had happened. As he rubbed his tired, heavy eyes, he realised that there was still an infusion needle sticking in his right arm. Sighing, he sat up and tangled his feet out of the bed. Maybe it was a good thing, though, that he'd have to shuffle along the drip. At least like that he could lean on something because his legs felt quite weak, like they couldn't support his full weight. Slowly, he pushed himself up from the bed and grabbed the stand of the intravenous drip, starting to make his way over to the bathroom. 

Once he was done taking a leak, he stared at himself in the mirror, while cold water was running over his hands. He looked like absolute crap. Pale like a corpse and incredibly bony, with his dark-circled eyes hollow, sunken in. His hair was a total mess and he couldn't remember the last time he'd shaved, it probably had been a few days back. In a weak attempt to make himself feel a tiny bit better, he scooped up some water with his hands, splashing it onto his face. Actually he felt a little less drowsy by now, but he doubted that it was the effect of the cold water and rather guessed it had to do with whatever was in that infusion. After he'd taken some gulps of water and then dried his face off with some paper towels, he tumbled back into the hospital room, ready to fall asleep again. 

However, once he'd managed to drag himself back to bed, he noticed the agitated groans and whimpers coming from the other side of the room. It sounded like the man in the other bed was having a nightmare. Keith tried to ignore the sounds, but since he wasn't quite as exhausted anymore as he initially had been, he couldn't just go right back to sleep. As he was lying there, trying not to focus on that other bloke's agitation, he soon found that the harder he tried, the more he became aware of it. Just as he wondered whether he should ring the bell so a nurse would come to check on his roommate, he could hear him mumbling incomprehensible. After a moment, Keith thought he could pick up words and realised that the other one must have woken up, because he could hear him shift and turn in his bed. Keith contemplated that he probably wouldn't have to call a nurse after all and nuzzled his face closer into his pillow, as he caught something that awfully sounded like: "Fuck's sake…", followed by something dropping down onto the floor and an annoyed sigh. From the noises made, Keith guessed that the other man had accidentally knocked over his cup of water from the bedside table. 

"God damnit…", he heard him swear and then a moment later, to his absolute astonishment, Keith could make him out silently crying. Was he bawling now because he had spilled his water? Maybe, Keith thought, he should actually ring for a nurse. In his attempt to press the emergency button beside his bed, he pressed the light switch instead, turning the ceiling light on. Blinking against the much too bright light and actually lifting a hand to shield his eyes from it, he could hear a surprised gasp. And as he could finally see through blurry eyes, his roommate was halfway leaning onto his elbow, looking over at him almost in shock. Like a deer in the headlights. As far as Keith could assess in his own groggy state, the other man appeared to be even worse than he was himself. His light brown hair was completely messed up and he seemed incredibly pale and almost frightened. In addition, his eyes were red-rimmed, probably from crying even more than he just did right before Keith turned the lights on. Also it was quite obvious that he couldn't move around too much due to whatever injuries he was having. 

"Uh...are you okay?", is all Keith could think of saying, staring at him, feeling a bit awkward. "Do you need a nurse?", he added because he didn't know what else to do. 

"I'm good…", the other one returned in a low voice, sounding quite sheepish. As if he was uncomfortable that Keith was awake. 

"You spilled your drink", Keith only observed in reply, his gaze shifting from the other man to the floor where the empty cup lay in the middle of a water puddle.

"I don't need a nurse", he gave back, almost sulky now. 

"Okay, then…I'll go back to sleep", Keith announced, ready to turn the awfully bright lights off and finally rest again. 

"Wait", the other one piped up, just as Keith reached for the light switch. 

"Hmm?"

"I'm thirsty", the guy in the other bed admitted, averting his gaze. 

"So you want me to ring a nurse, or what?", Keith wanted to know because he started getting annoyed. His headache was back and all he wanted was to finally shut down the light. 

"Whatever…", the other one just shrugged and Keith rolled his eyes, before pushing down on the red emergency button. 

"Well, I just pressed the button, but suit yourself…", he meant in mild annoyance, not understanding what the other's deal was, but also not really caring about it either. Keith simply turned away from him, lying back down and pressing his eyes shut. Only a short while later, the door opened and a nurse entered the room, quietly asking what happened. Meanwhile, Keith tried tuning out the hushed voices of the nurse and his roommate, hoping that fatigue would overcome him soon. 

As he opened his eyes the next time, it was light outside. Surprisingly, his headache was gone and for once he didn't feel completely wasted, only slightly exhausted. Whatever they put into these infusions seemed to work wonders. Turning on his other side, he could see that his roommate was still sleeping, at least it looked like it. For a moment, Keith wondered what had brought the other man there, whether he was seriously ill, or had had an accident, or what had happened to him that he ended up in that hospital bed. But he dismissed these thoughts, his mind shifting to more pressing matters. His mouth was so dry that he could barely swallow, so he turned into the other direction and then slowly sat up in order to take some gulps from the plastic cup on his nightstand. Just as he put the cup down again, a nurse came to check on them. 

"Good Morning, Mr. Richards", she greeted him upon seeing that he already was awake. Keith only nodded curtly, sitting up further and swinging his legs out of bed. 

"How are you today?", the nurse wanted to know, stopping by his side.

Keith simply shrugged in return. He didn't really feel one way or the other. The nausea and headache had faded, he could properly breathe again instead of dreading to suffocate, and he actually felt more or less rested for once. On the other hand, he just felt empty and he couldn't find the words to describe his current state if his life depended on it. There was nothing really he did or didn't want to do. If he wasn't that emotionally numb from all the months of heavy drug use, his complete indifference and total disinterest might actually have scared him. But as things were, he really didn't care about anything. The nurse could have told him that World War III had started and he probably just would have shrugged as well. 

"I'll take that infusion bag off, it's empty by now. Do you maybe want to take a shower before I hook you up with the new one?" 

Keith considered the nurse's suggestion for a moment, as she plugged off the infusion cable from the aditus on his right arm, and decided that maybe it might not be the worst idea to get a little cleaned up. Actually he couldn't even remember when he'd last taken a shower. 

"Do you need help getting to the bathroom?", she wanted to know, but Keith just shook his head.

"Can I get some new clothes?", he asked instead and, of course, the nurse was happy to provide him with a new hospital gown. 

Keith hated these things, they reminded him of nightgowns old ladies were used to wear. But in order to get some of his own clothes, he'd have to ring someone up and ask them to drop by with something. Apart from Ronnie, who probably was lying around somewhere, high as usual, he couldn't come up with anybody who'd do that for him. Most of the other lads he used to hang out with where probably high, either. And he didn't know them that well. If he'd been in a clearer state of mind, able to access the whole extent of this completely fucked up situation that addiction had got him into, he probably would have realised how utterly lonely he was. First he'd lost his girlfriend, who eventually left him once he got overtaken by his drug habits that she didn't want to be a part of. Then he'd lost his job as a baggage handler at Heathrow airport, and a while later, when he couldn't pay rent anymore, he'd lost his flat. He'd moved in with Ronnie on his house boat on a channel near Camden Town, it was the only place to go. But at that point, he already had not cared anymore. All that mattered, all that always mattered, was the next shot. 

With his arm not stuck to the infusion anymore, he could move more freely over to the bathroom while the nurse crossed the room to check on the other man, who apparently was still sleeping. When he'd managed to lock himself in the bathroom and undress himself, Keith felt physically exhausted, even though he just had to pull the old hospital gown over his head. Seeing his lean, haggard body in the mirror, his ribs clearly defined under much too pale skin, he quickly averted his gaze, stepping into the shower cabin instead. The stream of water pouring down on him felt way too hard and way too hot. Maybe his senses were still messed up, he couldn't tell. After a while, the warm water started feeling quite agreeable, though, so he stayed under the shower for another few minutes after he'd only managed to wash his hair. It seemed too big of a challenge for him to take the provided soap and actually clean himself off properly. 

Once he was finally done drying himself off and putting that new gown on, all he wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep for the rest of the day. Leaving the bathroom, with his hair still damp, he could see that his roommate was awake by now. Apparently the nurse had helped him with washing and now was trying to persuade him to eat something. 

"Breakfast was brought in while you were taking a shower, Mr. Richards", she informed him, pointing to the food tray on his nightstand. It contained a few slices of toast, some cheese, butter, jam and a cup of tea. He didn't feel particularly hungry, yet he sat down on his bed, taking a slice of toast, buttering it. Meanwhile he tried not getting annoyed over the nurse's continued efforts to make the other bloke take some bites of his toast as well. Keith didn't even manage half of his toast before he felt nauseous again and decided to rather lie down and get some rest. 

He must have dozed off after a while, at least he didn't remember anything up to the point where he was woken, once more, by a baby's cries. Hoping it would soon calm down, he just stayed lying in his bed, realising that he'd been hooked up to a new infusion dripping into his veins. Since he wasn't a doctor and had absolutely no clue in which way the substitute drugs flooding his system worked he only was glad that they prevented him from going cold turkey. It must have been a good day and a half since he had last injected some smack or used anything else. But considering the way he felt, he mused there might probably be a light dose of morphine in that infusion bag. 

The baby didn't stop crying and after a while, Keith got just plain stressed out by it, already feeling another inflight of a headache. He sat up, looking over to his roommate who was talking to the baby in its small bed standing next to his own, trying to calm it down. 

"That your kid?", Keith asked, irritated by the ongoing screaming. "Can you make him shut up?"

"She's a girl...and I'm trying", came the somewhat tight reply, whereupon Keith just creased his brow in annoyance. 

"Just call a nurse", he suggested in a gruff voice. 

"I cannot press the button. Don't you think if I could get up, I'd hold her?", the other man threw back at him, sounding almost offended. 

"For fuck's sake…", Keith muttered, turning over and stretching his arm out to press the emergency button on the wall. Then he leaned back onto his pillows, hoping the matter would be resolved soon.

"Could you...maybe hand her to me?", his roommate quietly asked him after a moment and Keith only rolled his eyes, because he sure as hell wouldn't get out of this bed right now. 

"Wait for a nurse", he gave back curtly. 

"Please, she's been crying for minutes straight, I don't know what's wrong with her…", the other man pleaded now and it evoked a heavy sigh from Keith. 

"Fine...just make her shut up, my head's exploding", he eventually settled, pushing himself up from the bed and tumbling to the other side of the room, leaning on the infusion stand once again. 

Coming to a halt in front of the baby bed, he got a first real glimpse at the small human being lying inside. She actually was tiny. And her little face was all red from crying so hard, waving her tiddly arms. Keith couldn't help but feel quite sympathetic at that sight, as he slowly stretched his hand out, gently touching the screaming, pitiful infant. 

"Hey there, little one", he whispered in a low voice, before proceeding to carefully picking the baby up, bringing her close to his chest so she wouldn't slip through his arms. He had no clue about such small children, wasn't really ever around any of them. But this tiny baby screaming her soul out certainly shook up his compassion. And he wished that they could just calm her somehow, not because he was annoyed or had a headache, but because he couldn't stand that she was so entirely helpless. 

"It's okay...you don't have to be afraid", he mumbled towards the baby, cradling her against his chest as he stepped closer to her father's bed. He softly started rocking her a little and to his utter surprise and disbelief, the crying started quieting down until just little hicks escaped the baby's mouth. 

"What did you do?", the baby's father wanted to know, staring at him with a mixture of shock and surprise in his blue eyes and for a split second Keith had the impression that he was scared. 

"Nothing...just holding her", Keith all but stammered in return, looking down at the tiny human in his arms and then back to the other man, equally astounded. "What's her name?", he added in a low voice, intent on not startling the baby into yet more crying as he kept on slowly rocking her. 

"Mona", the other one replied, quietly as well. 

"It's a nice name", Keith whispered, wondering how on earth someone like him, all scruffy and basically looking like the human impersonation of death, could end up making a frightened little human feeling comfortable enough to just stop screaming her lungs out. 

"Thanks."

"Do you want to hold her now?", Keith offered to Mona's father, stepping a little closer towards him so that he could take his daughter. 

"Could you...maybe hold her for a little while longer now that she finally stopped crying?", he asked him to Keith's total astonishment. 

"Yeah…yeah, okay", he muttered after a moment, carefully holding Mona close to himself. By now it seemed like she had dozed off, just lying in his arms, all quiet and peaceful. 

"Thanks…", the other man repeated, actually sounding somewhat relieved. As Keith shifted his gaze on him, he realised that he looked equally exhausted as Keith himself was feeling. 

"It's okay…she's beautiful", he mumbled, as surprisingly, a small smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

"Very much so", the baby's father agreed, sounding just a little proud. 

"Why are you guys here?", Keith wanted to know then, still cautiously holding Mona, as the door opened behind them and finally a nurse came to check in on them. 

"You've been ringing the button?", she asked, before Keith could get any reply from the other man. 

"Mona was crying and didn't stop", her father explained, almost gladly looking at his sleeping daughter in Keith's arms. 

"It's alright now", Keith added. 

"Should I take her back to pediatrics? Maybe she is hungry", the nurse suggested. 

"I guess that might be for the best, yeah", Mona's father nodded in agreement. "I...I couldn't really take care of her like that…", he added in a quiet voice, sounding almost ashamed. 

"Do you want to take her for a moment before I bring her to pediatrics?", the nurse asked, but the man declined. 

"Could you...just hold her a little closer to me, please?", he said to Keith, who bend down a bit so the other man could gently run a hand over his daughter's small head and face, cooing to her in a soothing tone, before leaning in closer to press a kiss to her forehead. 

"Sleep tight, little one", he whispered, before signaling Keith that he could hand the baby to the nurse now. 

Once the nurse had put Mona back into her baby bed and Keith had his arms free again, he grabbed the infusion stand, finally making his way over to his own bed. The nurse had left the room with Mona by the time Keith had reached his bed and was lying down again. 

"Hey", his roommate called out to him, just as Keith was trying to find a comfortable position.

"Hmm?", he made, turning onto his left, to look over to the other one.

"What's your name?", he wanted to know. "I'm Mick, by the way", he added. 

"Keith", he only gave back, feeling pretty worn out from standing around so long. 

"Thanks for helping me out with Mona, Keith", Mick replied. 

"No worries", Keith meant, stifling a yawn, before adding: "I really need a nap right now."

"Sure", Mick only said, but Keith already didn't pay attention to him anymore. His brain felt way too hazy and his eyelids were getting incredibly heavy. Quietly sighing, he turned onto his other side, pressing his face into the pillow, peaceful oblivion awaiting him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
here I am again with the next chapter. It's a little darker as the previous one, but what did you expect with this story xD anyway, I hope you all like it nevertheless and hopefully soon we'll get to some lighter scenes again as well! 
> 
> By the way, don't wonder if the next thing I'll put up won't be the 5th chapter of this, but yet another sequel to Ever Since That Night. I just love this AU so so much, it's so dear to my heart and always makes me smile when thinking about it and I've had that idea for a oneshot stuck on my mind for a couple days now, so...maybe I'll write that first before the 5th chapter of this story, who knows, let's see...but first, enjoy this one here!

"Your mother really would love to finally talk to you now that you're awake and on the mend, Mr. Jagger", yet another nurse informed him for the second time that day. 

It was the fourth day of Mick being awake from the coma. The fourth day of having to live with the knowledge that he had survived a fatal car crash while his fiancé didn't and now he'd have to raise their baby girl all by himself. Thinking about Tessa being irrevocably gone was like listening to someone saying something but not quite hearing it. He registered it, but didn't understand it. Never being able to see her again, talk to her, touch her, it all was completely incomprehensible to him. He'd found himself drenched in tears dozens of times a day since he woke up. When thinking about everything for too long, or when just remembering some small, endearing details about his relationship with Tessa. How they met for the first time, totally random at a supermarket around the corner when he'd bumped into her shopping cart, only to figure out a couple days later that Tessa had newly moved into a flat across the street from Mick's. How they went on their first date together, totally cheesy and predictable, going to the cinema. How afterwards they'd grabbed a drink at a nearby pub, before Mick had walked her home and she'd kissed his cheek, waving him goodbye with a sweet smile as he turned back to her on his way over to his own flat. There were so many little memories popping up in his mind, completely random things like the kind of biscuits that were her favourite, the beautiful dress she'd worn when they went out for dinner on her last birthday. How baffled, and absolutely ecstatic they'd both been at the same time when finding out that they were having a baby together. 

Remembering all of this and more made his heart ache so badly that he felt he couldn't properly breathe anymore, then he'd burst out in tears, sobbing almost uncontrollably, his whole body shaking. And he just didn't know how to stop. How to not bawl his eyes out every time he thought of her, or when he got to see Mona. Their little girl was quite perfect and so very precious, he couldn't be more thankful for her being all well and healthy, but she reminded him so much of her mother that sometimes he could barely stand looking at her without ending up weeping once more. 

That day, so far they hadn't brought her to him, but then again, it wasn't even lunch time yet. Apart from his physiotherapist with whom he'd worked for half an hour during each of the past days, slowly regaining some strength in his arms and back, trying to mobilise his legs as well, he'd only been confronted with some nurses. He also hadn't talked more to Keith, his roommate, since he had helped him with Mona the day before. Mick couldn't quite tell only from looking at him what he was in the hospital for, but he surely didn't look healthy in the slightest. All pale, shabby and shockingly bony, barely able to keep on his feet, and always incredibly tired. He didn't think the other man had as much as spoken five words so far that day, all he did was lying in bed, sleeping. But despite his rough exterior and obvious moodiness, he'd turned out to be able to handle Mona surprisingly well. Admittedly, Mick had been almost dumbfounded when his little girl had simply stopped crying, almost as soon as Keith had picked her up. It seemed quite unbelievable but as long as she had calmed down, he was really glad about it and he certainly had appreciated his roommate's help. 

At the same time, it had become clear to him, what a hard way was lying ahead of him. He couldn't even get up from the bed yet, how would he be able to take care of his baby once they could leave the hospital? Actually he was pretty afraid of this prospect, he wanted to do everything right, wanted to be the best father for Mona that he possibly could be, but he didn't quite know how to. Not when he was so utterly left alone with Tessa not there anymore. He had no clue how he should deal with coming to terms with her death and trying to raise a baby at the same time. It seemed completely impossible. 

"Mr. Jagger, your mother is on the phone, again. She just wants to talk to you and see how you're doing", the nurse meant, ripping him out of his depressing thoughts. "Let me put you through to her, will you?", she added, holding out the phone speaker to him. 

Mick sighed, heavily. He didn't feel like talking to his mum, didn't know what to tell her. Hearing her voice, her being shocked and worried, would only make him cry again. The last thing he wanted was for his mother to worry too much, or to be a burden for her. She already had her health problems to deal with which were a huge obstacle for her, making her life quite inconvenient. But eventually he realised that he should talk to her, if only just for a moment, like that he might be able to make her worry some less. So he finally accepted the speaker from the nurse, his arm now strong enough again to hold it himself.

"Mum?", he asked, almost coyly, then waiting for her reply, which came almost immediately. 

"Micheal! I'm so relieved to finally get to hear you!", his mother all but yelled into the speaker, she truely sounded more than relieved. "How are you?"

"I don't know...how am I supposed to be?", he just mumbled in return, stifling another sigh. He really couldn't describe how he felt, hadn't been able to tell his doctor either when she dropped by to examine him earlier. 

"How's the baby?", Mick's mother kept on asking and he was glad to be able to answer at least this question for her. 

"She's fine...she's amazing. Her name's Mona, mum. She's the most beautiful little thing…her eyes...she's got Tessa's eyes...", he told her, his voice almost breaking in the end. 

"It's such a pretty name, love. I'm so glad she wasn't hurt", his mother pointed out and he nodded with tears in his eyes, before realising that she couldn't see this. 

"Yeah...yeah, me too. Mona's doing quite fine by now", he assured her. 

"Micky...we should come down to stay with you for a while, your aunt Sarah and I", his mother mentioned then. It wasn't only a suggestion and there was obvious worry in her voice. 

"Mum...you don't have to do that. I know how rough travelling is on you", Mick tried to appease her, though to no avail. 

"But you shouldn't be on your own right now, darling. And I want to meet my granddaughter, obviously! Let us help you out a little. Just for the first couple of days once you'll get to leave the hospital?", she proposed now and Mick couldn't deny that this actually sounded rather persuasive. 

Although he hadn't been told yet when he would get to leave the hospital, he was very aware that he probably wouldn't be able to properly handle himself and Mona for the first while. Even if he could walk on crutches by then, everything would be rather complicated. They didn't even put up the baby crib in Mona's nursery yet. Actually he'd wanted to do that before the birth, but then the car accident happened. Not everything was ready for him to take his daughter home and he felt absolutely horrible about it. As much as he didn't want his mother to go through all the trouble it would be causing her to come to London, he knew that he desperately could need some help. Otherwise he probably wouldn't be able to handle things too well. It would make him feel even worse if he couldn't properly care for Mona even though he had the chance to. So he finally agreed. 

"Okay...yeah", he meant, nodding a little as if to underline his statement. 

"Fine. We'll be there for you and Mona, don't worry, Michael", his mother reassured him and he had to admit that this actually made him feel a lot more at ease. 

"Thanks", he just mumbled, a single tear running down his cheek. This wasn't at all how he'd imagined things to be. But it was what he would have to deal with now. Somehow his life and Mona's must go on. Even if it was tough, but there was no alternative. 

"You don't have to thank me, not for this", his mother gave back and he suppressed a sob. 

"I just...I don't understand it, mum", he stammered, more tears welling up in his eyes. 

"What do you mean, love?"

"I don't understand why Tessa is gone...or that she's gone. I just...I don't comprehend it…", he outright started weeping now, almost dropping the speaker. 

"I'm so so sorry, Micky. I really cannot tell you how sorry I am about all of this. And I know it won't bring Tessa back again, but you've got your little one now. She survived, she's a part of Tessa and she's there with you. I know it's not what you want to hear right now, love, but through Mona, Tessa keeps on living", his mother tried to calm him down, but it only made him cry harder. 

"I...I cannot...I cannot do this right now", he got out between sobs, meaning he couldn't keep talking on the phone, or listening to his mother's consoling words. It just was too much for him. 

"I'll be calling again soon, darling", his mother promised and Mick only nodded, completely drenched in tears, before dropping the speaker onto his bed, while still sobbing uncontrollably. 

Mick just missed Tessa so much that he couldn't even start to describe it. It almost felt like a piece of his heart had been ripped out and like there was no way to ever replace it again. He obviously was aware that he had Mona to take care of now and he was aiming to be the best dad she could have. It was the least he could do for her since she had to grow up without ever knowing her mother. But he simply didn't even have a clue how to and where to start. He could barely move on his own, and he was in a horrible state of mind. Mick felt like there was no way he could ever get over this, ever make sense of it. Additionally, even though he knew that he didn't cause the accident, he was still blaming himself. For not being able to help her, for not being there in her last moments, for not even being there for her funeral. It was completely insufferable. 

"Hey...hey, Mick", a voice eventually got through to him over all his crying and snivelling. Only after a moment he registered that it was Keith, his roommate, trying to talk to him. As he finally lifted his gaze, his vision blurry from tears, he could see him standing there, in the middle of the room, leaning on his infusion stand and looking quite undecided. 

"Do you need me to ring a nurse for you?", he wanted to know once Mick's teary eyes met his. 

"I don't want a nurse…", he gave back, his voice hoarse from crying so much. 

"I just thought…", the other man started, but Mick disrupted him.

"I don't want or need a bloody nurse", he repeated, quite annoyed. There was a lot he wanted and needed but a nurse wasn't on that list. He wanted to be able to get out of that hospital bed, he needed to be there for Mona, he wanted Tessa back...

"Alright, man", Keith lifted his left arm in an appeasing gesture. "I just wanted to help", he mumbled in addition. 

"I don't need your help", Mick snapped because he was so completely hopeless and utterly dissatisfied with this whole damn situation he found himself in. 

"The other day you didn't complain about my help", Keith muttered in a low voice. 

"Just piss off, man!", was all he could think of returning to that, feeling quite annoyed. Why didn't people get that he just wanted to be left alone? He needed some time to get his thoughts straight, come to terms with everything that happened, it didn't really help at all that everybody just kept bothering him. 

"Alright, whatever…", the other one shrugged, simply turning around, shuffling back towards his bed, while Mick felt even more terrible than he did before. 

OoOoOoOo

Keith simply shrugged at the other guy's snub answer, steadying his grip on the infusion stand, before making his way over towards his bed. He really just wanted to help, but if his roommate didn't appreciate that, there wasn't anything he would do about it. It wasn't his responsibility after all, he had his own stuff to take care of. The only reason why he'd got up in the first place, was because he'd woken up and needed to go to the loo. Like this, he'd overheard the other's phone conversation, apparently talking to his mother. And as he was done in the bathroom, Keith had found Mick completely drenched in tears, sobbing heavily and his whole body shaking. Admittedly it had shocked him a little to see his roommate in such a bad state, almost not able to catch a breathe. So he just wanted to make sure that he wasn't going to hyperventilate or break down. But apparently, Mick was still well enough to be upset at him. Keith didn't care about that, he had just wanted to be polite and do the right thing. He still didn't really know what exactly had happened to the other man, why he was at the hospital and why he was always desperate and weeping almost every time Keith was in a state to notice. 

But from everything he knew, he'd heard and seen, Keith guessed that maybe Mick had lost his wife. An accident, probably. Or otherwise, she surely would be around, come visit him, be there with the baby. It seemed a reasonable enough explanation, though he didn't know for sure and also didn't really care enough to find out. At least not anytime soon. Not while his roommate was in his current state and while Keith himself was in this miserable condition. He felt so weak and drowsy the whole time, could barely keep on his feet for longer than a couple minutes without getting totally exhausted. The next time a doctor showed up, he probably should ask them what's going on with the medication in his infusion bag. And all that other stuff. Like how they planned to proceed, when he'd be able to leave the hospital.

Actually he didn't have to wonder about some of these questions for too long. Just as he had settled into his bed again, pulling the blanket around him, the door to the hospital room opened and some doctor stepped inside. 

"Good morning, Mr. Richards. Mr. Jagger. My name is Doctor Oldman and I'm a psychologist here", the doctor greeted them, introducing herself. Keith had the impression that she actually was there for him, since she'd walked towards him at first, but as she noticed the poor and hysterical state Mick was in, she rather turned into his direction at first. 

"Do you need anything, Mr. Jagger? Has there been a problem, are you in pain?", she wanted to know, approaching his bed, putting a hand out to touch his upper arm. 

"It's...it's okay, no, I'm not in pain…", he choked out and Keith observed how he was still crying silent tears. 

"So, you don't need me to call one of my colleagues for you?", the psychologist kept on asking. 

"No", was all Mick replied. 

"Okay. Actually I've been assigned to talk to both of you. I was thinking that I'd first take Mr. Richards with me to have a chat with him at my office, and then return here for you, since you're bound to the bed. But I don't know, do you feel the need to maybe talk right now, Mr. Jagger, or would you rather wait until I'm finished with your roommate here?"

"I...I don't wanna talk…", came the tearstained answer.

"Then let's wait, alright?", the doctor meant, before turning back to Keith. "Mr. Richards, do you want to come along with me and maybe have a little chat?"

"Do I have to?", he gave back, sounding quite annoyed at the prospect of having to get up, moving to another room, and then have a conversation with some shrink. 

"Well, considering the reason why you're here, I'm strongly advising for it. It certainly won't hurt you, we don't have to talk about anything that's making you feel uncomfortable", Doctor Oldman reassured him. 

Keith sighed at that reply. He didn't really know why talking to a shrink would help him. But maybe it would get him out of the hospital sooner, because he obviously didn't enjoy being there. He had no real clothes, the food tasted disgusting, also he wasn't allowed to have beer. Furthermore, he missed hanging out with Ronnie and even though his symptoms of withdrawal were suppressed by substitute opioids, he wouldn't mind just smoking a little spliff. Because it calmed him down, but didn't make him feel as tired and fucked up as that medication did. So after a little consideration, he eventually agreed to talk to the doctor. 

Since he was too weak on his legs to walk all the way to her office, Doctor Oldman got a wheelchair for him, wheeling him down the aisle, while he held onto the infusion stand, rolling next to him. Keith felt somewhat ashamed about it. After all, he wasn't some elderly person who truly needed assistance. And he wasn't even really injured either. He did not have a broken leg, compared to his roommate, actually he should be able to walk on his own. If only he was not that fucked up. Once they arrived at the doctor's office, she wheeled him inside, closing the door and then deposited the wheelchair next to a normal chair, facing the one she took a place on herself. 

"Tell me why you're here", she started the conversation, looking at him encouragingly. 

"You know why", Keith simply returned, wondering why she'd be asking him that. 

"I want you to tell me about it, though", she meant and Keith sighed once again.

"Why?"

"Because I want to better understand you", Doctor Oldman explained and Keith almost rolled his eyes. What was there to understand?

"Well...I did drugs...OD'd, I guess...that's what brought me here, I guess", he replied as if it wasn't plain obvious from his medical data that she certainly must have read. 

"Which drugs are we talking about?", the psychologist wanted to know. 

"Smack…"

"You mean heroin?", she asked for clarification and Keith only odded. 

"Were you by yourself or with someone else at the time you OD'd?"

"My mate Ronnie and I were hanging out at that other guy's flat...I don't really know him, but Ronnie does. There were...two other lads as well, I think", Keith was thinking back of what happened that night a couple days ago. 

"Do you know why it went wrong this time?", Doctor Oldman continued with her questions and Keith started to feel like being interrogated. 

"What do you mean?"

"Was it adulterated, the heroin?"

"No...no that wasn't it...one of the other blokes had shot up before me, he just...no, I guess he was fine…", he tried to remember, wondering why she kept asking him all of that. 

"So you...took more than you did before", the psychologist suggested next. 

"I guess? Look, I was...I really needed that...I just wanted to finally shoot it up and...be good", he almost felt like he needed to explain himself. 

"It was an accident, then?"

"Are you implying that...I OD'd on purpose? Why would I do that?", Keith asked, his brow creasing in wonder. He hadn't thought about that consciously. All he wanted was to finally score again because he'd almost been on cold turkey already. 

"I don't know, you tell me", the psychologist meant. 

"I just wanted to score…"

"For how long have you been taking heroin?"

"I don't know...a few months, I guess", he sighed, not quite remembering. It probably were around three or four months. About the time when Lucy, his girlfriend of almost two years, had left him. Because she couldn't take living with an addict any longer who didn't care about too much else but when he could get high again. 

"And before that?", Doctor Oldman continued her question-answer game. 

"LSD, coke...the usual shit…", he meant, quite unfazed by the things he actually was admitting to. As if it didn't concern him in the slightest that he had one hell of a problem with being a drug addict. 

"For how long has this been going on?"

"I don't know...it's just something I'm doing when hanging out with mates…", he shrugged, almost casually as if it wasn't a big deal. As if the drugs hadn't slowly but gradually ruined his whole life up to the point where they almost killed him. 

"So you got into drugs because of friends?"

"Doesn't everybody?", he asked in return, rhetorically, not directly looking at her but at a picture on the wall behind her instead. 

"Tell me about your life before the drugs", the psychologist prompted then and by now he got somewhat annoyed by her. 

"Why do you wanna know all of that?" 

"As I said, I want to understand who you are so I can better help you", she explained and he sighed. 

"Will this make me get outta here faster?", he wanted to know. It basically was the only reason he'd agreed to talk to her in the first place. 

"Depends. Do you want to leave the hospital because you feel the need to score?", she asked him, looking at him almost curiously. 

"What do they give me here?", Keith inquired, thinking of the liquor in the infusion bag that slowly was dripping into his veins. 

"It's methadone...it suppresses your symptoms of withdrawal and will be reduced gradually over the next few days. However...it's only a temporary solution. The goal here, obviously, is to get you clean. That's why I'm talking to you, Mr. Richards. I need you to be clearly aware of your current situation and actively willing to change it. Do you want to get clean, Mr. Richards?", Doctor Oldman told him, giving him an intense stare, as if she wanted to x-ray him with her eyes. 

It made Keith feel pretty uncomfortable, because he didn't really know what to reply to that. What would happen if he didn't take that chance, if he just continued like that? Would he end up at the hospital again in a few weeks, or would he go directly to the morgue? On the other hand, what use would going through detox, getting clean, do for him? Getting the chance to find another underpaid job that he hated? Going back to Ronnie's while he couldn't get a flat og his own and being dragged right back into that shit? Would all the struggle of going through detox even pay off in the end, or would it just be a waste of time and his energy? He truly couldn't tell and it made his head ache just thinking about it. He really didn't want to deal with this right now. 

"I...I don't remember anymore what it feels like not being high…", he settled for as an answer after a moment and shockingly it was the truth. He'd started smoking hashish as a teenager, then eventually taken some amphetamines, LSD when out clubbing in his early twenties. Coke hadn't been far either, so he stuck to that for years. But the real hard and addictive stuff like morphine and heroin had been a more recent development. If it hadn't, then he probably already wouldn't be around anymore. 

"What's your job?"

"I...I used to be a baggage handler at Heathrow...well and I just wanted to play music, the guitar...got a small band with some mates…", he told the psychologist. 

"What are you playing?", she wanted to know and he had no clue whether she actually was interested or if it was just her method of gaining his trust and making him talk. 

"Blues, rock, some country…", he gave back, his thoughts drifting to his band for a moment. They hadn't properly been playing together for months. Which wasn't surprising seeing that three out of the five of them were junkies, not getting their shit together. Before he could get too nostalgic though, regretting that he hadn't played anything fun in ages, the psychologist disrupted him with yet another question. 

"What about your job at the airport?"

"I lost it...bout a month ago", he shrugged again, because he truly didn't care. He'd hated that job anyways, it was dull and the salary sucked. 

"Because of the drugs?", she kept digging and Keith only nodded. 

"What else did the drugs cost you?"

"Uh...my flat...had to get outta there last week", he meant. This actually was something he really regretted, because now, essentially, he was homeless. If it wasn't for Ronnie, who'd gladly taken him in. 

"Where are you living now?"

"Crashing at Ronnie's. He's got a houseboat on that channel between the zoo and Camden Town…", Keith said. 

"What about family?"

"My parents split up when I was about thirteen, I lived with my dad then...moved out when I was seventeen. Haven't really heard too much of either of them since...", he told her the short version because he really didn't want to get too deep into this. It wasn't something he liked discussing, especially not with people he just met. 

"Do you have a girlfriend?", Doctor Oldman asked next and he was relieved that she didn't keep asking him about his parents. 

"I was with a girl, Lucy. She was really smart and really pretty, great girl, funny…", Keith mentioned, letting out a little sigh as it became obvious to him that he actually missed her. 

"What about Lucy?"

"She left me...cause of the drugs. Was a few months ago…"

"Didn't you ever think of stopping the drugs and getting her back? Or before she left, getting clean to stay with her?", the psychologist suggested. 

"I guess...I didn't love her as much…", he started, stopping himself because he wasn't quite sure how to express himself. 

"As the drugs?", Doctor Oldman finished his sentence for him and he supposed she wasn't that far from the truth. 

"I guess", he agreed, realising for the first time how fucked up that sounded. That he gave up on a bright, beautiful girl who really liked him a lot, because he couldn't get his shit straight. 

"Would the prospect of being able to tell Lucy that you got clean encourage you to go through detox?"

"She probably doesn't even care...a mate told me he met her and she's with some other bloke now…", he gave back, sounding somewhat defeated. There wasn't really much incentive to get off the drugs. As long as he was tripping, at least everything seemed alright. 

"How does that make you feel?", the psychologist inquired. 

"I don't know...how long do you want to keep asking me these questions? Cause I really am getting sick of that shit…I don't wanna talk about that stuff any longer", he finally meant, pretty stressed out by now. He felt exhausted by all these questions and also didn't he lead a conversation as long and demanding as this for what felt like ages. It simply was too much. 

"Okay, sure. I think we've talked more than enough for today, you're right. We can continue this tomorrow if you like", the psychologist agreed with him. 

"Maybe…", he meant, not sure yet whether he actually wanted to. Right now he just wanted to get out of this office and away from this woman. She made him get all stressed out and anxious. 

"Would you mind me taking you to the cafeteria for a while? Thirty minutes tops, I really would like to get a word with your roommate as well", she suggested to him as she got up. 

"Yeah, whatever…", he shrugged, yet once more, as Doctor Oldman wheeled him out of his office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also, I know actual Mick's mother used to call him Mike or Michael, but since this is all an AU and everything's purely made up, she calls him Micky, cause I think it's cute lol xD


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys :)  
as mentioned this took me a while longer. Nevertheless, I am finally done with the 5th chapter and already outlined the 6th one! Hopefully you'll like it, thank you all so much for reading, enjoy! 
> 
> p.s. some time ago I came up with another AU that's just labelled as "not-famous AU" in my mind. I don't want to give away too much yet but some days ago, the whole first chapter (which I could post as a oneshot just as well) plopped up in my mind and I already started writing it. So I might be positing this soon because I really loved that idea a lot...

When the door to the hospital room opened Thursday afternoon, exactly one week after Mick had woken up from his coma, he expected another nurse or doctor to come in to check on him or his roommate. But to his utter surprise, it was Charlie, his friend and colleague, who entered the room and walked up to his bed. They both were music teachers at a secondary school, but had known each other since university. While Mick taught some additional afternoon classes about playing the piano to interested students apart from his regular schedule, Charlie was also leading the big band. He was a sublime saxophonist and even more of an exceptionally gifted drummer. Together with a bunch of other colleagues, Charlie and Mick had actually put together a teacher band that they played with during school events or the Christmas party. 

"Charlie", Mick only got out, by way of greeting, because he hadn't expected him in the slightest. His sight was surprising but certainly not unwelcome. It was really good, finally seeing a familiar face. 

"Mick, I'm so sorry. I didn't know what happened. You know, I was away on the trip with the band kids and then...", Charlie started to explain but Mick was so glad to see him that he cut him off right there. 

"It's okay, Charlie…", he meant by way of calming him down because he seemed to be quite upset. 

"I should have come here sooner, but…", Charlie continued, but Mick shook his head. He didn't want and need to hear any of this now. 

"Charlie...it's fine. You're here", he reminded him, directly looking at him, just waiting for him to catch his breath. 

"How are you?", Charlie eventually wanted to know, after holding his gaze for a moment. He then stepped closer towards the bed, putting out a hand to press Mick's arm. 

"I don't know…", he replied what had become some kind of a standard answer to most of the people asking him this question. He was as far from being good as could possibly be. At the same time, he couldn't find the proper words to describe how incredibly miserable he still felt. Replying like this just was the easiest way.

"I'm so sorry about Tessa...I don't know what to tell you", Charlie offered and Mick nodded lightly. There was nothing to say, really. Nothing that could be said could undo things or bring her back anyway. 

"Yeah, me too…", he mumbled, defeated. 

Slowly, the complete extent of his whole situation had started dawning on him during the last few days. Talking to Doctor Oldman, the psychologist, wasn't as bad or useless as he'd thought when he first got to know her a couple days ago. Actually, it was quite calming getting to talk to her about what happened, about how it made him feel. Because in that way, he could sort out his thoughts and feelings and even if he always ended up drenched in new tears, surprisingly he felt calmer afterwards, not as disturbed. The psychologist never grew tired of reminding him that what he was going through at the moment was a long process and it would take him a while to get to terms with everything and accept things as they were. It wasn't really what he had wanted to hear at first, but by now he started to understand that there was only one way to tackle this, by looking forward. Things could never be anymore as they used to, but it didn't mean that the world had stopped turning. Quite to the contrary. Everything around him kept going relentlessly and he had to go with the flow or otherwise it would destroy him. He couldn't continue his life living in the past, keep replaying all the memories and thinking about things that never would be. Instead, he needed to focus on what he still had in his own hands, what he could influence himself. Tessa's death had been a tragic accident, a series of unfortunate events, all leading to this irrevocable ending. There was nothing that could have prevented it because it was completely random. But everything that happened after, all the things which still could happen and that he could actively influence, he could turn to the better. That's what he needed to understand because that was the only way to keep on living and to be a good father for Mona. At least that was what Doctor Oldman had tried to make him realise the last few days. 

"What about your baby?", his friend wanted to know then, disrupting Mick's thoughts. 

"She's fine. She's doing great. Her name's Mona. Actually, she just was here with me but then they brought her back to pediatrics because she needed a change of diaper", he explained, his mood getting a little lighter. If it wasn't for Mona, he honestly wouldn't know how to keep going. She was the only reason for him to want to keep on living and not go be with Tessa again. Mona needed him, he couldn't give up just like that when he had his little girl to take care of. 

"I'm so glad to hear she's alright", Charlie agreed, actually looking relieved and he pressed his arm once more with his hand. 

"She's perfect", Mick nodded, the tiniest of smiles tugging at his lips. 

"Mick, listen...if you need anything…", Charlie started, but yet again, Mick was quick to disrupt him. 

"I don't want or need anything from you, Charlie. The only thing I want I cannot have anymore…", he turned down Charlie's unspoken offer to help him out. 

"I'm sorry, I just want to help", Charlie explained, looking a little uncomfortable now. 

"I know…", Mick gave back, averting his gaze to the blanket because he started feeling quite horrible once again. Everything he said or did always came down to Tessa. How was he ever going to get over this loss? 

"When will they let you out of here?", Charlie's question startled him out of his dark thoughts. 

"My ribs are almost fine by now...the leg, I don't know", he just shrugged. Nobody had told him anything so far. Probably they'd also want to make sure that he could have some more chats with Doctor Oldman, to see that he was mentally stable enough before they let him leave. 

"Will they send you to rehab?", his friend wanted to know and Mick shrugged again. Nobody had told him about that, either. 

"I just want to go home...I need to be there for Mona", he gave back. His daughter was the only thing he currently truly cared about. Even though he still didn't know how to handle everything by himself. Especially with his leg not healed yet. 

"But who's there for you, Mick?", Charlie prompted as if he'd read his mind. 

"My mum...she's coming down from Liverpool…", he informed him. Obviously, his mother didn't back down from her plan. She'd continued to call him every day since he first spoke to her on the phone and had let him know that they were arranging things. 

"She is?", Charlie asked, almost surprised. Of course he knew about Mick's mother and her health condition, so it was a reasonable question to pose. 

"Yeah and my aunt", Mick mentioned.

"I'm glad they do."

"I'm pretty certain they'd turn up on my doorstep even if I told them to stay away", he mused, sighing a little. That's exactly how his mother was and he didn't know whether it was a good or bad thing in this case. 

"It's good, though. You shouldn't be all by yourself", Charlie reminded him and Mick silently had to agree, even though it was tough to accept. "You can always call me if you need anything, you know that, right?", his friend added and Mick nodded lightly. 

"Thanks, Charlie."

"There's nothing to thank me for, Mick", he meant, naturally. 

"It's good to see you, mate", Mick said, he honestly meant it. 

He'd felt so lost and lonely for most of the time during the last week. Safe for Mona, who obviously couldn't reply to him since she was only a month old, there hadn't really been many people around him without it being their profession and getting paid for it. Except for his roommate, Keith. Who'd actually helped him out with the little one a couple more times during the last few days. They'd even started to chat a bit every now and then. Mick still didn't know what Keith's deal was and he didn't want to outright ask him, because neither did Keith ask him why Mick was here. Oddly, it was quite alright like that, not knowing this about each other. Mick didn't need his roommate to feel sorry for him about Tessa, it would only bring him down again if Keith looked at him all pitiful and told him he was sorry. They'd just ended up talking about music after Keith had hummed some songs to Mona to calm her down, which surprisingly had helped quite well. Despite being a music teacher, Mick had been way too overwhelmed to come up with that idea himself, until Keith reminded him of it. As it turned out, he loved the same kind of music as Mick did, mostly R&B, and was playing guitar, jamming with some mates or in the streets, trying to get a band started. That's all Keith could tell him before the psychologist had disrupted them the other day to take him to her office and have a chat with him. Afterwards, she'd returned by herself, as she always did, to talk to Mick for a while. 

"And you", Charlie replied, smiling a little. 

"How are things at school?", Mick wanted to know then. 

"Don't worry about any of that. You're a teacher, mate. Just take your time getting fit, and taking care of your daughter. The job will be there still waiting for you afterwards", Charlie reminded him and Mick knew he was right. There were already so many things he was worrying and wrecking his mind about, but his job really wasn't one of them, luckily. 

"I don't know how to make it, Charlie…", Mick eventually admitted. It always boiled down to this one thought. How would he be able to keep going on? Obviously, he was aware that he had to care for Mona and he wanted nothing more than that, but at the same time it always reminded him that he'd need to do so by himself. Even if he got help for a while, by his mother or friends, it would never be the same as raising his kid together with the woman he loved. 

"You can always call me, Mick. No matter what, just give me a call", Charlie assured him once more and Mick just nodded. A lump had formed in his throat again and he could feel that he was close to crying.

Just as he was looking for words to express how grateful he was to Charlie, the door to the hospital room opened anew, and this time Doctor Oldman stepped in. Since she'd been talking to his roommate before, Mick knew it was his turn now. 

"Good afternoon", the psychologist greeted them. "Would it be alright if I borrowed you for half an hour or so, Mr. Jagger? Or should I come back later?", she asked then, also directed at Charlie. 

"Do you want me to wait outside, or rather come back tomorrow?", Charlie suggested, looking at him expectantly. 

"You don't have to wait up, it's alright", Mick gave back with a shrug. It was great to see his friend, but talking to Doctor Oldman always was emotionally drenching and he rather wanted to be alone and maybe sleep afterwards. 

"Do you want me to come see you again tomorrow?"

"I don't know...just come around again when you've got time to", he meant. Of course it had been a nice surprise to be able to talk to Charlie, but he didn't need this every day. The prospect of it alone was already too much for Mick. Seeing the psychologist every day, talking to her, spilling his feelings out was enough. He didn't need Charlie to do the same. 

"I'll come back in a while then. Do you need anything from your flat, new clothes?", Charlie suggested and Mick was pretty glad that he did. 

"Actually...it would be really great not to have to wear these hospital gowns all the time…"

"Okay, I'll bring you some clothes then", Charlie said, smiling at him encouragingly. 

"Thanks, Charlie", he repeated, but his friend didn't even want to hear it. 

"Don't mention it. I'll see you soon, Mick, get better!"

"See you, mate", Mick returned by way of goodbye, as Charlie lifted up a hand in greeting. 

Once Charlie had left, Doctor Oldman took a seat in one of the chairs, as she'd done the few days before as well. 

"Was this a friend of yours?", she started their conversation after a while, looking at him eagerly. 

"Yeah, he's also my colleague", Mick offered. 

"This was the first time you've had a visitor. Did you enjoy your friend coming around?"

"It was good to see him", he simply replied because it truly was. 

"It's great that you've got all these social contacts, family and friends, who want to help you. It surely might make things a little easier for you", Doctor Oldman stated then, making Mick sigh. 

"I don't want to be a burden for them…", he meant. It felt horrible being this helpless. Even though by now he'd made quite some success with his physiotherapist and had sat in a wheelchair for a while the other day, he still felt quite useless. 

"They're your family and friends, even if you feel like you're being a burden, in most cases they're glad they can help you. They're worrying about you", the doctor explained and Mick simply nodded.

"I know…"

"How are you feeling today?", she kept on asking. 

"I liked that Charlie was here…", Mick replied for a change. It was the second day in a row that he didn't have to reply to her with his standard "I don't know". The day before he'd admitted that he had enjoyed holding and talking to Mona. 

"I didn't want to throw him out, you could have told me", Doctor Oldman backpaddled. 

"No, it's alright…" 

"How is Mona?", she wanted to know next.

"I've had her with me earlier…she was a little cranky today", Mick told her. She'd been screaming again, but he supposed it only was due to needing a change of diaper. This was another point which really upset him. Except for trying to feed her with a bottle once, so far he had done, or could do, none of the things new parents usually had to do for their babies. It made him feel completely useless. 

"I've noticed Mr. Richards is helping you out with her sometimes…", Doctor Oldman mentioned. 

"Yeah, he...he's quite good with her…", Mick had to agree. It was utterly frustrating. Mona was his daughter and apparently some random stranger could stop her from crying more effectively than Mick did. "Sometimes I think he can handle her better than I do…", he mumbled, staring onto his hands almost in defeat. 

"Why is that?", the psychologist wanted to know. By now Mick wasn't that annoyed about her poking questions at him anymore. Actually he was glad she did, because it made him reflect his feelings. Even though at first he didn't want to talk to her at all, after a few days of regularly seeing her, he had to admit that just chatting to her helped in some way. At least he felt a bit calmer, not always on the edge of tears. 

"He always manages to make her stop crying...I don't know...he just...he just knows how to handle her", Mick admitted with a shrug. He really had no clue how Keith did it. Maybe he wasn't as agitated as Mick was and had something like a calming aura or whatever. It was quite odd and Mick didn't understand it. 

"How does that make you feel?", came the doctor's question. 

"Quite miserable, actually...cause...I have to be able to take care of Mona once I get out of here...but I'm afraid that I won't be…", he mumbled, speaking out what had been haunting him for days. 

"You will get help from your mother, though", Doctor Oldman reminded him. 

"Yeah, but...she can't be there for too long...and I don't always want to rely on her. She's not getting younger, sadly…", Mick gave back thoughtfully. 

"You've also got friends who can support you every now and again", the psychologist said then. 

"I guess...it's just...here, I've got the nurses helping out with everything...because I can't do too much yet…", Mick thought out loud. 

"But you'll get out of this bed soon and have more freedom again, your leg will heal, you'll be doing fine, Mr. Jagger", Doctor Oldman gave back, trying to sound encouraging, but it didn't quite help him.

"When Mona is crying and I cannot figure out why, or cannot manage to make her stop...I won't have Keith's help", he mentioned then, surprising himself with this statememt. It was insane, relying on a guy he didn't even know, especially when it came to his baby daughter. He didn't even have a clue why Keith was in the hospital, all he knew about him was that they had a mutual interest in music and that for some inexplicable reason, he could manage to stop Mona from screaming. 

"He talked about you and Mona, you know", the doctor told him and Mick looked at her, baffled. "I asked him whether I could mention this to you and he said he doesn't mind. But earlier he told me that he is astounded. That he never really had to handle a baby before and he couldn't explain to himself why it seems to come naturally like this to him. Though, he thinks that looking at Mona, or holding her, makes him feel more grounded, calmer, and that it seems like a good thing to him", Doctor Oldman told him and Mick didn't quite know what to do with this information. 

"Why is he here?", he asked the psychologist, because it was the only thing he could think of. 

"I'm afraid I cannot tell you this. I only mentioned that because Mr. Richards allowed me to. But you'll have to ask him that yourself", the doctor explained to him. 

"Why did you want me to know?", Mick questioned then. He had no clue why the psychologist had told him this. Other than that it made him feel even stranger about this whole thing. 

"Because I had an idea. It's pretty unconventional and you don't have to like it, but I wanted to at least mention it to you. See...from everything that I've heard during the last few days, I know you're struggling a lot at the moment, are having a really rough time. And so is Mr. Richards", she started, but Mick still didn't get what she was up to. 

"What do you mean to tell me?"

"Well...you need help with Mona, he is being quite good with her. And Mr. Richards...he needs something to keep him grounded, to show him he's needed and…some actual purpose in his life", Doctor Oldman meant and eventually, Mick caught on to her thought process. 

"Are you...suggesting me to ask Keith to help me out with Mona?", Mick wanted to know, staring at her, completely flabbergasted.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks a lot for reading, kudos and comments, you guys have no idea how much I apprecciate this! :)  
On to the 6th chapter now, hope you enjoy it! (Already started writing the 7th as well)

It was insane. Mick couldn't believe he was actually considering Doctor Oldman's suggestion. After all, he had no clue who his roommate even was. For all he knew he could be a felon or a crook. Even if he didn't look as rough and edgy anymore as he had when Mick first got to meet him, since by now, Keith had started shaving again and he'd even cut his own hair. He didn't seem like a bad guy at all, but it was something else being in a hospital room together, or having Keith over at his flat. Mick felt completely ambiguous about him. On one hand, he secretly was glad that Keith had been willing to try helping him out with Mona when she was crying and Mick couldn't calm her down on his own. On the other, it made him feel horrible about his qualities as a father, relying on some random stranger to stop his daughter from screaming, rather than managing to figure out something by himself. Even if Mick had been completely persuaded that Keith was totally alright and that he was an earnest person, he still couldn't ask him for help. It would make him feel even worse about everything. Also he didn't understand how he would do him a favour by letting him help out with Mona. Or why he even needed this. Why, according to Doctor Oldman, he needed a purpose. It was a total paradox to him. 

Keith was sitting in a chair, holding Mona in his arms, while Mick was practising some muscle exercises with the physiotherapist. It would help him to soon be able to stand again on his own, moving around with crutches. Until his leg would be completely healed, it would take another couple of weeks, the doctors had told him, since apparently it was quite a complicated fracture. Every now and then his gaze drifted over to his daughter, sleeping in the other man's arms. She was completely calm and Keith looked almost content. It was an odd sight, Mick could barely come up with words to describe how it made him feel. He was almost glad that he had to focus on his exercises in order to not slip and fall, because like this he didn't have time to overthink everything too much. 

The work out with the physiotherapist went pretty well that day, Mick managed to get out of bed and sit in the wheelchair almost by himself. And he barely felt any pain in his chest anymore when moving, by now his ribs were as good as healed again. 

"Well done, mate", Keith commented, as Mick wheeled the few metres over to him, he sounded quite encouraging. 

"Can I hold her?", Mick gave back, holding his arms out for Mona. 

"Of course", Keith replied, carefully handing him the baby and Mick gently took her from him, cradling her against his chest, hoping she wouldn't wake. 

"Do you want to stay in the wheelchair for a while, Mr. Jagger?", the physiotherapist disrupted them and Mick only nodded in reply, without really taking his eyes off his sleeping daughter. She looked amazingly adorable and quite perfect, sleeping all peacefully. 

"Okay, just ring for a nurse when you want to get back into bed, I'll see you tomorrow then!", the physiotherapist meant, Mick returning his goodbye before he left. 

"Why are you doing this?", Mick wanted to know after a few silent moments, not looking up from Mona's sweet tiny face. She was so precious. 

"What do you mean?", Keith asked, pretty much oblivious. 

"Helping me out with Mona. We're not your responsibility", he explained, finally lifting his gaze to direct it at his roommate. Keith didn't hold his eye contact for too long, after a moment, he averted his gaze, staring at his own hands instead, as looking for a proper answer there. 

"Well...you asked. And you weren't in a place to take care of her by yourself. Still aren't, really…", he gave back, sounding almost a little flustered as if he was embarrassed talking about it. 

"You didn't have to, though...you could have just called a nurse...you don't have to keep doing this", Mick reminded him and Keith only shrugged. 

"I don't mind", he simply stated. 

Mick still didn't get it. Why he was being this nice and helpful without expecting to get anything back in return. He just wasn't quite sure what Keith was getting out of it. 

"The doctor said this gives you a purpose. What does she mean? Why do you need one?", he kept questioning him, because he wanted to find out Keith's motivation. 

"It's not that easy…", he drifted off, nearly sighing. 

"Then tell me, I want to understand...why are you here?", Mick directly asked then. If he let him help with Mona, at least he finally wanted to know a little more about him. It wasn't necessarily that he didn't trust him enough, he seemed really nice and proper overall, but Mick wanted to know. 

"Can I ask you something, first?", Keith returned and now it was for Mick to just shrug. 

"Okay."

"Mona's mother...did you lose her?"

"She died the day Mona was born...it was a car accident. They couldn't save her...only Mona…", he told him, feeling his chest tighten again as he averted his eyes, fixing his glance on his sleeping baby daughter. She was perfect. But she would never know her mum...

"I'm really sorry, Mick…also for Mona...I'm sorry", Keith started, but Mick disrupted him. 

"Sorry doesn't bring her back", he meant harsher than intended, just to rip himself out of the sadness that had overcome him once more. He didn't want to talk about Tessa now. It was more than enough having to talk about her to Doctor Oldman. 

"Why are you here?", Mick wanted to know instead. He wanted to talk about anything else but the fact that Mona would have to grow up with only one parent. 

"I OD'd", Keith quietly stated and Mick almost wasn't sure he heard him correctly. 

"What?", he inquired, just to make sure. 

"I…it was heroin…", his roommate stammered, not looking at him. 

"You're...you're a junkie?", Mick abruptly disrupted him, not quite believing what he was hearing. 

"I wanna get better...I didn't...I wanna get clean, okay?", Keith tried to explain, stumbling over his own words. But Mick didn't even want to hear his explanation. He felt betrayed by him, bullshitted, like Keith had pretended to be someone that he wasn't. This whole time he seemed and acted all nice and innocent, helpful and polite, when in truth he actually was a crook after all. 

"I want you to stay away from Mona", Mick told him, angry now. Not only at Keith but at himself as well. For blindly trusting him, letting him get that close to Mona. He should never have asked for his help in the first place. It had been incredibly stupid and he really shouldn't be surprised about this. He should have known better. His sole and most important responsibility was to take care of and protect his baby girl and by letting someone like Keith, an actual drug addict, get close to her, Mick felt like he miserably failed at it. 

"Mick…", Keith began, but he didn't want him to say anything. 

"No, what the fuck is wrong with you, man?", he all but yelled at the other man, only then recalling that Mona was sleeping. 

"I just wanted to help", Keith said, sheepishly, as Mick made sure that his daughter was still sound asleep. 

"Fuck off, I don't need your help", he gave back, still as pissed, but not as loudly as before.

"Will you let me explain at least?", Keith tried again, sounding almost desperate now. 

"I don't want you to touch Mona ever again", is all Mick had to return to this. He was so incredibly angry that he couldn't tell what he would have done if he wasn't holding Mona. 

"She's crying", Keith piped up after a moment and Mick, to his increasing anger, had to realise that he was right. Mona actually had woken up and seemed a little cranky now about what was going on around her. 

"Fuck you, I don't need you to tell me how to handle my own kid", he hissed at Keith before he tried turning around to wheel back to his bed. But obviously, with Mona in his arms, he couldn't manage to do so. He couldn't even turn the wheelchair. 

"Fine...suit yourself, then…", Keith only mumbled, getting up to walk over to his own bed. 

"Bloody hell...fuck...can you...could you ring a nurse for me, please?", Mick cursed after a moment, sighing in desperation. It was outright pathetic. He couldn't get along by himself, couldn't even move around. While the sole person who was there to help him was the same one he'd just yelled at to stay away from him and Mona because he was an addict. 

"So that's what the junkie's good enough for, then?", Keith returned, snappy, and Mick couldn't even resent him for it. This whole situation was ridiculous and he'd have loved to get out of there as soon as he could, the only problem was that he couldn't even manage to get over to his bed which was a few metres away. 

"Look…", he tried, a little calmer now, but Keith apparently was hurt. 

"No, I get it...you don't want anything to do with me…"

"Please", Mick meant, softly rocking Mona, who still hadn't fully calmed down again. 

"Fine...but just because of her", Keith replied, nodding at Mona, before eventually pressing the red emergency button. 

The next few days were incredibly awkward. Keith could see exactly how his roommate was struggling with everyday things, even though by now he could at least get in and out of the wheelchair with just a little support by a nurse or his physiotherapist. Yet, he never said anything, never offered his help again, because Mick had made it quite clear that he didn't want it. They also didn't bring his baby to the room anymore, instead Mick would wheel over to the pediatrics ward to see his daughter. 

Keith had felt stupid and empty at first for a day or two. Stupid, for getting so attached to this, helping Mick out with his little girl had felt like the only useful thing he'd done in ages. It had been amazing to be able to support him in some way, even if it was just holding Mona for a moment while Mick was doing his muscle exercises, or looking after her while he wheeled over to the bathroom. Empty, because now that Mick knew about his drug habit and wouldn't let him near Mona any longer, wouldn't even talk to him anymore, there wasn't really much going on for him. Though he still talked to Doctor Oldman every day, obviously she knew what was going on and that her suggestion had backfired, going totally into the wrong direction. She'd apologised to Keith for coming up with that idea and he knew that she'd also apologised to Mick as well. 

Still, in Keith's opinion it hadn't even been such a bad thought. He would have enjoyed helping with Mona some more, at least until he was released from the hospital. But now Mick didn't allow him to any longer and Keith basically had nothing to do at all. Nothing this meaningful anyway. He didn't get any visitors, either, in contrast to Mick, who had friends coming over every other day now that he was on the mend. Obviously he'd known before, but the sight of Mick's friends, bringing him new clothes and food and toys for Mona, made him realise even more how utterly lonely he was. Since he'd lost his job, none of his colleagues cared, his girlfriend had left him, most of his friends were doing drugs as well and probably were too messed up to even remember what was going on with him. And those few people he still had left who weren't corrupted by any bad stuff probably had no clue at all that he even was at the hospital because he hadn't talked to them in months. Maybe it was up to Keith to reach out to them but he didn't have any energy or motivation for this. After Mick had yelled at him to stay away and that he didn't want his help, for a few days Keith was back to lying around in his bed again, just staring at the ceiling. The only times he got up was to go to the loo, or to Doctor Oldman's office. 

Just now he was sitting in one of the brown leather chairs again, not looking at the doctor across from him, but out of the window instead. It was amazingly nice outside, a beautiful day in late May. 

"How are you doing today, Mr. Richards?", Doctor Oldman repeated her standard introductory question that he hadn't answered before. He'd just kept staring out of the window, wondering for how long they still wanted to keep him there. 

Keith only shrugged in reply. He didn't quite know what to say, couldn't describe how he felt. It was an odd mixture between indifference and annoyance. Annoyance about himself due to slipping down so far that getting up again seemed quite impossible now. Annoyance about himself due to getting this attached to Mick and Mona because they were the only people around who weren't doctors or nurses. Annoyance about the feeling of being stuck in the hospital because he didn't really know what else was out there for him. 

"I wanna get out of here", he finally stated. "When am I finally getting out of here?"

"Well...this depends entirely on you, Mr. Richards", the psychologist returned. 

"What does that mean?", he wanted to know, eventually looking at her instead of out the window. 

"Are you willing to turn your back on drugs for good and go to rehab? Then you'll be released into a rehabilitation facility. Detox will take up to a week, when you get off the substitute meds. After that you'll have to stay for some therapy for a couple more days. And you'll have to agree to see a psychologist at least once a week and also get random check ups and drug tests. Do you want and agree to that?"

"What's the alternative?" 

"We cannot force you to stay here, you're free to leave. But getting off the substitute opioids without proper detox...it's not advisable at all...you'd go cold turkey and feel the need to score again. Without the proper surroundings and support...I don't think you'll be able to resist. In the best case, in a few weeks or months you'll end up here again, another overdose. In the worst you won't make it…", she explained and Keith simply nodded. 

"I don't want to die…", he said, so quietly he didn't know whether the doctor actually had heard him and he felt tears stinging in his eyes. 

Except for this nice weather, there was nothing for him out there. No flat to go home to, no girlfriend, no job. Only friends who didn't actually care for him because they were too busy tripping. He could think of just a single person to call and ask for help. For a place to crash for a while. It was better than nothing. All he knew was that he couldn't stay in that hospital room any longer with a roommate who couldn't even look at him anymore since he found out about his background.

"Do you want to go to rehab then?", Doctor Oldman asked, giving him an expectant look. 

"I wanna get better...I don't wanna be that guy anymore, I cannot…", he got out, choked by held back tears. 

"What did make up your mind if I may ask?"

"I just…", Keith started, but stopped himself again. It sounded pathetic and silly, admitting that the only thing that had made him feel alive again after a very long time was holding Mona. And the reason he wasn't allowed to do this any longer was because he was a drug addict. He couldn't blame Mick for his reaction at all and he was aware that he would get the same reaction over and over again by people, for as long as he kept living like this. But he couldn't go on like this any longer. He didn't want to be looked at with disgust and pity anymore by everyone he encountered. There had to be more out there still. More than the drugs, more than a shitty job and people who didn't give a damn about him. 

"I don't wanna die", he repeated instead. It seemed to be a good enough answer for Doctor Oldman. At least for the moment. 

Everything was arranged rather quickly. Right the next morning, a doctor told Keith that in a few hours somebody would come to pick him up and drive him to the rehab centre. He didn't know what to expect from it. Whether it would be rough going through detox, how he'd feel after. He never actually had talked about or informed himself about the whole process but he knew how bad the cravings could get. And if he couldn't score then, he didn't know how to get through it. All he knew was that he had to do this if he wanted to keep on living. 

And at least he finally got to wear proper clothes again that a nurse gave him. It was lost property, but a jeans and a t-shirt was better than that hospital gown. They also gave him back the old jeans and sneakers he'd been wearing on the day of his admission. His old t-shirt was cut open from when they had to perform CPR.

The day before, after talking to Doctor Oldman, Keith had called an old mate, Bill, to ask him whether he could crash on his couch for a while. They hadn't been in touch for ages, Bill was one of the few people Keith still knew who never wanted to have anything to do with drugs. This had been the doctor's condition. Staying with somebody who was clean and who'd help him stay away from drugs, who'd help him get on his feet again. 

Talking to Bill after all this time, telling him his story, had been quite awkward. It was embarrassing, having to admit to his friend why he had grown distant, that drugs were the reason. That he had lost everything he had and needed help now. It had been the most uncomfortable phone call Keith ever made. But Bill was a good mate, he actually had been glad to hear from him. And even though he'd been shocked to learn about Keith's drug habits, he assured him he had his back and supported him wanting to get off drugs. He even asked whether he could visit him in rehab. Keith wasn't sure whether he was allowed to have visitors there, so he told him he'd call him back about it. In the end, it was more than he could have hoped for. At least he still had someone on his side. 

As Keith emerged from the bathroom, dressed in street clothes, he could feel Mick mustering him. But as he looked over at him, Mick quickly averted his gaze. He'd figured that he would try to talk to Mick again before he left to go to the rehab centre. Let him know that he wanted to get better. 

"Mick?", he asked, almost reluctantly, from the other side of the room.

"What do you want?", came the other man's answer, he sounded annoyed. 

"I...I'll be doing rehab. I wanna get off drugs for good now...cause I don't wanna die", he told him, without really looking at him because he still felt like Mick was judging him. 

"I don't know why you're telling me that, but good for you, I guess…", his roommate gave back, almost indifferently.

"I guess...I just want to do the right thing...", Keith shrugged, his shoulders slumping in disappointment. He didn't know what he had been expecting. Maybe a less hostile reaction.

"Bye then…", he added, not knowing what else he could say. He wanted to say so much actually. How helping Mick with Mona helped him to feel like a human being again. That even despite not really having anything to look forward to, he wanted to better himself. That he wished Mick all the best for him and Mona. But obviously, he mentioned none of that because he thought it would only sound pathetic. Instead, he turned around, grabbing his few belongings to go downstairs where he was to meet someone who'd bring him to the rehab facility.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
took me a little while but therefor this chapter is twice as long as the others. Actually I was done writing it some days ago but I never had time re-reading and posting it because there was a lot going on at work this week, some extra hours and all...
> 
> I really hope you like it, Mick and Keith finally are talking to each other (on the phone), but in the next chapter (which I already started writing) they're finally going to meet each other again...

The past week had been hell on earth for Keith. Never in his life had he experienced anything as horrible and painful as going through detox. It had started with the craving for a hit getting worse and worse, like he'd experienced before many times. But unlike then, he couldn't score and get release because he was supposed to get clean. His heart had been racing uncontrollably and he'd started sweating as if he'd just ran a race. Then, the trembling had started, almost like he was freezing, his whole body spasming due to muscle cramps. Keith had barely been able to get a minute of rest or sleep, the past days all were a seemingly endless haze of horrible muscle pain, and vomiting, and trying to somehow make it to the loo in time. He'd repeatedly found himself lying on the bathroom floor, crying and screaming, begging for it to finally stop, covered in snot and puke, and he'd wet himself like a baby. 

After a few days of horrendous torture, eventually it started to get a little better. He'd been hooked up to infusions with water and minerals in order to prevent him from dehydration. After he'd managed to get through the worst of it, the muscle cramps subsided, not having him in their grip anymore for most of the time. The urge to puke his guts out or run to the loo every other minute also decreased with every passing day. Eventually he got to rest a little, passing out from sheer exhaustion more than just once. Sometimes he was ripped out of his fatigue by more cramps, his arms and legs shaking, making him roll up on his side, his arms wrapped around his knees, just waiting for it to be over. 

One morning, six days after he had been admitted to the rehab centre, he woke up exhausted and completely drained of energy, but oddly enough, he still felt better than all the days before. This had been three days ago. By now, he finally was over detox and experiencing this had made him wish that he'd never started taking drugs in the first place. It also had got him to make the promise to himself to never touch any of that shit again, ever. Because he wasn't so sure whether he could manage to get through this once more, or whether he would not make it out alive. 

Now that he was clean for the first time in ages, he would have to stay in rehab for a little while longer, talking to a therapist every day, and also participating in group activities. He wasn't particularly eager to do the latter, it made him feel like in the movies, when someone went to Alcoholics Anonymous, telling their story, talking about their problems. It was tough enough opening up about everything when alone in a room with a psychologist. Talking to a group of strangers that he didn't care about in the slightest wasn't exactly his understanding of helping him to get better. But he was required to do so, refusing it would make his doctors think that he didn't really make enough effort and didn't show enough motivation to actually become better. And then he would have to stay at the rehab centre for longer. Which he absolutely wanted to avoid because he was sick of doctors and hospital rooms and disgusting food and just finally wanted to get out. 

After a slightly annoying hour of group therapy session with five more people in the morning, where each had to introduce themselves and tell why and how they wanted to live a better life without drugs, Keith had another session with a psychologist in the afternoon. His name was Doctor Walker but he'd told him that he could just call him Chris. Keith supposed that this was to gain his trust and ensure that they'd be able to better work together, seeing that even after he left rehab, he would have to come back for therapy once or twice a week.

"My colleague told me you didn't really talk a lot during group therapy this morning", the psychologist said, as they were sitting in his office on really comfortable white couches. "Did you feel like you had nothing to tell or didn't you want to?"

"I don't know why I would tell all these people what's going on with me…", Keith returned, not able to keep an annoyed tone out of his voice. "They don't know me, I don't know them and I don't care about their stuff, so why would they care about mine?"

"Studies have shown that for some patients this can be helpful. Some former addicts may even make new friends that way, helping each other to stay clean", Chris tried to reason with him, but Keith also didn't really care about these studies. 

"I don't feel like making new friends here", Keith simply replied. Why should he? He didn't have the slightest motivation to do so. 

"What about your old friends? Tell me about them", the psychologist prompted then and Keith just sighed. But at least he didn't have to talk about the group session any longer. 

"There aren't that many, I guess...most people I know are doing drugs. I miss Ronnie, he's one of my best mates. He's always fun hanging out with, but he's high most of the time", Keith mentioned after a moment, thinking of Ronnie and what he possibly was doing right now. Probably tripping, since there wasn't really that much else he liked doing these days. They used to jam together almost every day. Before getting into the real bad stuff. They'd sit in the streets together, playing music, just for the fun of it. Sometimes they'd ask at some pubs whether they needed musicians for a night, but a lot of the time they were turned down. It had been quite frustrating and probably a reason why they ended up doing all that hard stuff. 

"You're aware that you shouldn't go see him as long as he's still taking drugs himself? Getting back into the habit would be way too easy like that", the psychologist reminded him and Keith lightly nodded. 

"I don't wanna do that whole shit again...I don't want to go through detox all over", he admitted. Once was more than enough, going through this torture again was nothing he wanted to experience ever again. He still felt incredibly exhausted and actually rather wanted to sleep than to sit there and have a chat with a doctor. 

"Good. It's good for you to recognise that. However, even though you're clean now, you might still experience cravings, you might want to score again. And if you're surrounding yourself with people who give you easy access to drugs, then all of your progress will have been in vain", Chris pointed out and Keith nodded once more in reply. 

"What about your other friend, Bill? He visited you yesterday, I heard", the psychologist continued then. 

"He's the guy I'll be staying with once I get outta here", was all Keith offered at first and after a prompting look by the psychologist, he added: "Haven't seen him in almost a year before yesterday…"

"Why not?", Chris jumped right at him with another question. Keith really loathed this about psychologists. They all gave him the impression of being interrogated. Just in a more polite way that made him feel rude if he didn't at least make an attempt at replying. Keith knew that the other man was just doing his job and that he actually wanted to help him get better. And he was aware as well that he'd have to play his own part in this whole process. If he didn't want the change himself, then everything he already did up to this point would have been a complete waste of time. 

"He was always against drugs. We just stopped talking eventually. He tried to talk me out of it before but I wouldn't listen to him, didn't want to. Eventually he just gave up", he recalled. Bill had just wanted the best for him but obviously Keith had been too far into drugs already to even consider what he had to say, it had been pointless. 

"Why did you decide to call him?"

"Cause he's had my back before... He wanted to make sure I wouldn't take drugs before and when I told him I wanted to get clean, he was happy to hear that. Offered his help. He's a good bloke…", Keith meant, really glad to have a friend like that, while simultaneously feeling guilty that they'd grown apart like they did because of the drugs. But he'd do better now that he got the chance to. Trying to open up about all of this to the psychologist wasn't easy either, but it probably was a good start. 

"He sounds like a true mate", Chris noted.

"It was good seeing him again yesterday", Keith agreed with a nod, as if to underline his statement. 

"Why did you make the decision to come here?", the psychologist wanted to know then. 

"I OD'd and almost died about three weeks ago", he told, his gaze directed at his hands. The other probably already knew that from his medical records, but Keith wasn't sure what else to tell him. 

"That made you want to stop taking drugs?", the doctor dug deeper after a quiet moment where Keith had just looked down onto his hands. 

"No...I didn't really know what I wanted…I didn't know anything but drugs anymore…", he admitted, starting to nestle around on a small hole in his jeans. It wasn't like him talking this freely about his feelings, and it cost him a lot to do so. But during his talks with Doctor Oldman at the hospital, he'd already learned that it actually helped him being a little more open. Chris seemed like a nice enough guy, he didn't annoy him too much at least, yet it still wasn't easy to disclose himself like that. 

"Then what made you reconsider?", Chris kept on asking. 

"At the hospital...I was in a room with that bloke, Mick. He had a car crash and his wife died. Their baby survived. He got injured and couldn't move properly, but they'd bring the baby, Mona, so he could see her. She'd start crying and when there was no nurse around, he couldn't pick her up and try to calm her down", he recounted and Chris nodded. 

"Did you help him?"

"At first I was just annoyed by the baby's cries. My head was aching and I just wanted to be left alone. But she wouldn't stop screaming and even though I called for a nurse, nobody was coming for a while. He asked me to help him, so I eventually did. I just wanted the screaming to stop…", Keith told him, remembering how unnerved he had been back then and that he actually just wanted to sleep. 

"What happened?", the psychologist inquired further. 

"I picked her up for the first time and...I don't know, actually, what happened. I'd never really handled a baby before. But she stopped crying. Mick was as surprised as I was…", Keith let him know, still a little baffled about it. He didn't understand it but it had been an extraordinary and unique experience, like no other before. It definitely had left its mark on him. 

"How did it make you feel, holding the baby? Helping your roommate out?" 

"It wasn't like anything I'd ever done before. It made me feel something again...like...not just...the drugs make you numb. For most of the time I had no clue what was going on around me anymore, I didn't feel anything. All I still knew was being high, or craving. But holding Mona...it made me feel alive again. Like I was an actual human being...if this makes any sense", he tried to describe, feeling that it might sound a little silly. It was still very foreign to him to simply describe his feelings like this, freely for someone else to hear and assess them. It made him feel weird and a bit uncomfortable either, but apparently Chris didn't seem to think what he'd just said was odd in any way. 

"It does, it makes perfect sense. I've heard similar descriptions before by various patients", he reassured him. "Did Mona make you realise that you might want children of your own?"

"What...no...I...I didn't really think about that…", Keith gave back, a little confused by this question because that wasn't something he'd considered, not recently anyway. He was pretty sure that it would be a whole different thing trying to raise kids of his own than simply trying to help someone out a little. It wasn't like he'd done that much anyway, except for holding Mona sometimes, trying to calm her down, or having an eye on her when Mick couldn't. 

"You just wanted to help your roommate out?", Chris kept asking. 

"I wanted to...I guess, be needed", he admitted after a moment. There was no other way to put it. It was exactly what he had felt and it had been quite a nice feeling being able to help. It made him realise that he wasn't completely useless after all and gave him some purpose. A reason to get out of bed. For months before that, he'd been driven by drugs. All he did or didn't do with his life was influenced by his drug consume. Getting the next hit was the only thing constantly on his mind, he literally couldn't think about much else anymore. He'd never cared a lot about his crappy job but under the influence he cared even less about it. He'd neglected friends who didn't do drugs because hanging out with them wouldn't get him closer to his next hit and they'd just judged him, vainly trying to talk him out of it. He hadn't cared about his girlfriend anymore, either. In the end, she'd just been there, he felt indifferent about her, like he'd never been attracted to her at all. He couldn't recall the last time he'd felt happy about something that wasn't related to being high. But when holding Mona that first time, and every time after, he finally felt content again. All calm and serene. 

"Yes, this all seems very understandable, considering the state you were in. So, this experience made you decide to get clean?"

"No...I mean, part of it", he said. 

"What was it then?", the psychologist dug deeper. 

"Mick telling me to fuck off and stay away from Mona once he found out I was using…", Keith sighed. In his battered condition back then it had been like a blow to the guts, making him feel crappy and totally useless. 

"How did this made you feel?", asked the psychologist as if he'd read his mind. 

"Quite shitty...he...he's a nice lad, I guess. Obviously he's not in a good place because his wife died, but...he cares about his daughter so much and...we talked about music a bit. He...he's a nice guy", Keith meant, remembering the conversation they had about their respective record collections, playing guitar, Mick being a music teacher. 

"So you felt bad when he rejected you like that?", Chris wanted to know and Keith nodded in agreement. 

"Yeah, I...I just wanted to help. I get that he just wanted to protect his child. It's what you do. But it made me feel...I was angry at myself", he mentioned, running a hand through his hair, messing it up. He didn't quite know how to express himself about it, because he still felt annoyed at himself. 

"Why that?"

"For getting to this place...taking drugs, fucking up my life. And for...for needing Mick to need me", Keith eventually dared to admit. He'd thought about this quite a while when at the hospital, after Mick had told him to stay away. He'd felt crushed, almost like being rejected by a girl he fancied. It seemed pathetic to depend on this so much, to get so much joy out of such a simple task as helping to take care of a baby. Keith had beaten himself up over it quite a bit, cursing himself for being this miserable. It wasn't like he'd any say in this in the first place, or any right at all. Mick's life and Mona's was none of his business, technically speaking, they were just some strangers who happened to share a hospital room. 

"It's not an uncommon reaction. You just told me that you don't have too many friends outside of that group you did drugs with. It's quite common, actually. Do you think you were looking for a friend in Mick?"

"Maybe...I guess", Keith mused, shrugging.

"It's a perfectly logical thought. You don't need to beat yourself up over it. It's human, you just were looking for a friend", Chris assured him and it made him feel at least a little better about it. 

"I guess…"

"Did you tell Mick you were doing rehab?"

"I tried to...he didn't really care", Keith sighed once again. "I just...I wish I could tell him I made it, you know. I just want him to know I'm clean now. And that I don't want to use again."

"Do you feel it would help you being able to tell him that?", Chris wanted to know next. 

"I guess", Keith simply stated once more because it probably was true. 

"Why do you want him to know?"

"Because Mona and him are the reason I'm here right now", Keith eventually confessed, sounding quite sheepish about it. He felt ridiculous. But it was exactly like that. If he hadn't met Mick, he probably wouldn't be here now. Probably he'd be with Ronnie instead, shooting some shit up his veins. If it wasn't for this indescribable experience he'd had while picking up Mona, being able to make her stop screaming almost instantly, then he probably wouldn't have a new chance now. But as it was, all thanks to Mick and his baby girl, he was here now, still exhausted from detox, very confused about his future, but alive and more content than he'd been in ages. 

Only a couple days after his roommate left, Mick got the news that the doctors found him well enough to be able to leave the hospital as well. Mona was about five weeks old when they finally got to go home, accompanied by Mick's mother and his aunt, who'd come down from Manchester to be with him for the first few days. Obviously both women were delighted about Mona and were gushing about her all day long. They did everything they could to help out, cooking and cleaning, looking after and feeding Mona, changing diapers, even successfully building up her baby bed. Mick couldn't really do much but sit around, his leg still in a cast, pretty much useless when staggering about on his crutches. 

In addition to that, he kept having nightmares about the car crash and about Tessa being gone. The worst thing about it was that his mother was staying in his room with him and Mona, while his aunt was in the living room, so obviously he woke her up each time he was startled by a bad dream. When his mother asked him what was wrong and if he wanted to talk about it, he always felt like a little kid who was afraid of the dark. His mother was already doing so much for him, and she knew how much he missed Tessa, so he didn't want to bother her with his nightmares even more than he already did. 

After a little more than a week, he finally couldn't stand it like this any longer. He needed some space to breathe and think and to come to terms with everything. It was more than amazing of his mum and aunt to stay with him for this long, to do pretty much everything for him, but he needed to be left alone for a while. They were always hovering around him, literally the only times he was being by himself was while using the loo or taking a shower. Although even then his mother wanted him to just close the bathroom door and not lock it, in case he slipped and fell. Mick knew it all was just meant well and he greatly appreciated that they were helping him with everything because he was aware that he couldn't do it all by himself yet. However, he felt like a stupid child, being patronised and he was growing quite tired of it. Especially since he really needed some time alone with his thoughts and feelings about losing Tessa. 

"Mum, I need you to leave", Mick finally stated one evening, about one and a half weeks after he had left the hospital, while they were sitting in the kitchen together after dinner. His aunt was just looking after Mona, who had woken up from her sleep, crying. 

"What? But we're just helping you, Mickey. How are you going to get around by yourself with Mona and the household?", his mother wanted to know, looking almost shocked about these news. 

Mick had imagined that she wouldn't take it that easy but he hadn't anticipated the hurt look in her eyes. It almost made him regret saying what he did. But he couldn't stand it anymore. He was an adult, he was a father, he wanted and needed to get back a grip on his life and it certainly wouldn't work with his mother sleeping in his bedroom and acting like he was a five year old. 

"I'll manage somehow...I have to. I mean, I can call Charlie or Ian and ask them for help if I need it…", he tried to reason with her. 

"But they won't always be able to be there for you, they have jobs and families too!", she claimed and Mick had to suppress a sigh. Obviously, his mother was right, but he didn't want nor expect any of his friends to be around him twenty four-seven. 

"Well, you can't always be there for me either, because you and aunt Sarah got your own lives as well", he argued but his mother wouldn't give in that fast. 

"We're glad, though, to be able to help you, darling", she pointed out. "It's nice spending time together and it's just so awesome getting to be around Mona this much!"

"Mum, please...I appreciate what you're doing, but I just need some space…", he tried to make her understand, feeling increasingly unnerved.

"It doesn't feel right to leave you here on your own", she gave back and Mick knew she just meant well. He couldn't even be angry about it because his mother just wanted the best for him. 

"But I need to...I need to be by myself, I cannot even breathe without any of you being right on my back…", he admitted, letting out a little frustrated sigh. 

Of course, he was aware that it wouldn't be easy handling everything on his own. If he was being honest, he didn't quite know how to do many of these tasks that his mum and aunt were helping him with, while still needing the crutches. But he was determined to figure it out somehow, since the alternative wasn't an option for any longer. The doctors had told him he'd need to wear the cast and walk with crutches for at least three more weeks. He'd literally rather bent himself over and work things out for himself than having his mother and aunt around for this much longer. 

"Are we annoying you? Do you want me to sleep in the living room with Sarah?"

"No, mum, I want you to go home to Manchester and sleep in your own bed. Please...you already did more than enough for me the last few days and I'm really glad you did. But I noticed you taking more painkillers again. You don't need to keep doing this, mum. I'll get along somehow. Mona and I will be fine", he explained and hoped that she would eventually understand. 

"But what if you won't?", she interjected, sounding nothing but worried. 

"I'll figure things out, mum. We'll be alright", Mick assured her, reaching over the table to press her hand with his own. 

"I'm just so worried for you. You never want to talk much about Tessa, but I feel that you should, it might help you…", his mother started, but he didn't want to get into this discussion now. 

"Mum, please...I cannot. I need to find my own way to deal with this. Always talking about it isn't for everyone…I really need some time and space instead", he explained, looking at her almost pleadingly, silently begging her to comprehend.

"Do you really think it'll help you being all by yourself?"

"I'm not alone, mum, I've got Mona", he meant, but it wasn't what his mother wanted to hear. 

"You know what I mean, Mickey", she replied. 

"I think...it's what I need, though." 

"But what if you won't get along?"

"Mum, I know you're just worrying because you love me and Mona, but...I need to do this in order to get my life back somehow, okay? I don't want to just rely on you for everything", he argued, hoping she would finally get him. 

"It'll just be a few more weeks", she tried again and Mick started to get annoyed by now. Why did she have to be this stubborn? 

"I really cannot stand this anymore…I want to be alone, I need to be, please leave me alone", he almost begged, pressing her hand more firmly than intended. 

"Okay. If this is what you want...but you need to promise me to call someone in case you'll need help. And you need to promise me to call me and tell me how you're doing every couple days, alright?", his mother eventually gave in.

"Fine, I will", he agreed without further ado. At this point he probably would have agreed to anything if it meant that he could have some peace. 

"You should come to Manchester with us…", his mother started then, but he wouldn't have that. Before she could go on elaborating, he disrupted her. 

"Mum...I've got my job and my friends here and I really like this flat, Tessa and I decorated it together, we painted the nursery, I want Mona to grow up here", he established. Moving away from London wasn't an option at all. He really liked it there and didn't want to start over all new. Even if maybe it might help him getting over Tessa's death, but he felt like it would be way too much for him to handle. He needed to stay right there, with his stable job, his colleagues and friends, he needed the well-known. 

"Alright, alright, I just needed to make this suggestion", she gave back and Mick only nodded. 

"So...is it alright for me to ask you to leave within the next few days?", he wanted to know then, almost sheepishly, but his mother agreed, assuring him that they'd give him the time and space he was asking for. 

It was four days after Mick's mother and aunt had returned to Manchester, when he received a rather unexpected call. When the telephone rang, he had just managed to change Mona's diapers and put her back down into her baby crib. She had been quite enjoyable so far that day, but as soon as the phone rang, Mick knew he had to get it, because the longer it was ringing, the greater the chance it would startle Mona and make her cry. The only problem was that he couldn't move that fast with his crutches so he was hoping that whomever was calling might just hang up again, thinking he maybe wasn't home. Unfortunately the phone didn't stop ringing, however by the time he finally reached it, he didn't hear Mona screaming, so he guessed he had been lucky for once. Because two times before he had to disrupt or end the phone call just so he could look for his crying baby.

"This is Mick", he said, as he finally took the call, leaning against the wall on the floor in order to not topple over. 

"Mick. Hey...it's Keith...uh...we met at the hospital", he heard the other man almost stuttering at the other end of the line. 

"What the fuck do you want? Where did you get this number from?", he asked brusquely, just because he was so astonished. 

"The hospital…", only came back and Mick wondered for a moment if they even were allowed to give out his number. 

"Why are you calling?", he wanted to know instead of asking why they had given Keith his number. 

"I just wanted to apologise. I didn't want to make things awkward like this. I shouldn't have forced my help onto you like I did...I'm sorry about that", he started telling him, not giving Mick a chance to reply before he went on. 

"Truth is, though...helping you out with Mona...and being able to...to kinda care for her in a way...it made me feel like I hadn't felt in a long while. Alive, even without drugs. I'm sorry about not telling you...but I was afraid that your reaction would be exactly like it was" Keith continued and Mick just kept listening because actually Keith's words were touching him in some way. 

"I won't offer my help anymore if you don't want it. But I just want you to know that I'm doing better now. I'm clean...I've been clean for almost three weeks now. For the first time in years…", the other one said and Mick didn't know what to reply because he was so surprised about it all. This call and Keith having his phone number, him getting clean and wanting Mick to know about it. 

"I wanted to be better because of what I experienced by helping you out with Mona. And I want to keep trying, stay off drugs, just be better…", Keith finished after a while before they both fell silent for a moment.

"Thanks for telling me that", Mick managed to reply eventually. Probably he should say anything else, maybe tell him that he thought it was great that Keith was clean now. But he didn't, because he was way too overwhelmed by everything he'd just heard. Above all, it really made him regret the way he had talked to Keith back at the hospital. He had been way too mean and after what Keit just told him, Mick felt really sorry about it. 

"Can I just ask you how you're doing? How's Mona?", Keith wanted to know as Mick didn't come up with anything else. He sounded quite shy about it, as if he wasn't sure whether he should be asking. 

"Mona's...she's fine, has been growing a lot…", he replied. Talking about Mona always was easier than talking about himself. Talking about Mona was also what simultaneously made him feel much better and much worse. Better, because she was the most precious thing in his life and he was so indescribably glad that she was healthy and developing really well, and because she was everything he had left of Tessa. Worse, because he felt by being temporarily disabled due to his broken leg, he obviously couldn't be there for her and care for her like he should. 

"Are you okay?", Keith inquired, as Mick had just trailed off. He supposed that he didn't sound too great, because obviously he wasn't. Since his mother and aunt had left, he didn't even know where to start. All he did was to make sure Mona was fed and bathed and looked after. He couldn't do things like vacuum cleaning and shopping for groceries was a problem as well. Currently he was living on what his friends brought him every few days and some stocks. Also he hadn't taken a shower in days, because his mother had totally freaked him out with being this overly careful and now he was afraid he'd actually slip and fall and then nobody would be there to help or look for Mona. 

"Not really…", he admitted after a while, feeling even worse about everything now that he had been assessing the whole extent of his situation. 

"Listen, I…", Keith started, but Mick just had to get something off his chest and he disrupted him.

"I'm sorry", he apologised and he truly felt sorry about his behaviour at the hospital. Keith had helped him when nobody else was there to do so and instead of thanking him for it, he'd yelled at him to fuck off. 

"What?", Keith asked back, almost a little baffled. 

"About what I said to you...it was mean and...I didn't know you wanted to get better...I'm sorry", he told him and actually meant it. 

"It's okay, you just were worried for Mona", Keith downplayed, but Mick was shaking his head until he remembered he couldn't see him. 

"I was being an arse", he stated.

"I guess…"

"Actually…", Mick started then, feeling quite ashamed about what he was about to say next. 

"Yeah?", Keith prompted him as he didn't go on. 

"Actually...I don't really get around too well here...my mum's back in Manchester, cause I couldn't stand her being around anymore and I didn't want to inconvenience her any longer. My friends...they got their jobs and their own families to take care of. I cannot really ask that of them, they're already dropping by on the weekends, or sometimes in the evening after work…I...I'm really so sorry for even saying that to you after the way I treated you, but I...I could actually need someone to help me out a little and if you...", Mick was rambling, until Keith disrupted him before he could even ask. 

"Do you...need me to come around?"

"I mean...if you...if you'd still be willing to offer your help? I'd totally get it if you didn't want to anymore, but I...", he kept on rambling again and Keith interrupted him anew. 

"Mick, I'd be glad to", he simply stated. 

"Really?", Mick asked, almost flabbergasted. 

"I don't really have too much to do otherwise…", the other man explained. 

"Of course I'd pay you something…", Mick assured him. 

"Thanks, I...I don't really have a job right now anyway…". 

"Well, I guess now you kinda do", he said and he thought he could actually hear Keith chuckling lightly at the other end of the line. 

"Do you want me to drop by tomorrow morning?"

"That would be great. You're truly amazing for doing this...thank you so much, Keith", Mick told him and his chest actually felt way lighter at the thought that he would get some help that wasn't his mum. Keith maybe could drop by for an hour or two a couple days a week and it would be fine. He could help him get stuff in the household done or look after Mona for a while and it would be totally alright then. Mick would still feel independent and not be crushed by his overly nurturing mother. Even though he barely knew Keith, a thing he knew about him was that he was a good bloke. He didn't have to call him just to tell him he was clean now. Mick probably didn't deserve to know this after the way he'd treated him. Yet Keith wanted to let him know and he even apologised for helping him, when Mick was the one who owed him an apology. It probably was for the best that he didn't know Keith too well yet because in this way it was easier to accept his help, having this distance between them seemed exactly what Mick needed. And it wasn't like he'd be letting Keith work for free, exploiting his good will. He'd at least try helping him in some way to get back on his feet again now that he finally was clean. It's the least he could do for him in return. 

"I'm glad to be able to do something useful for once", Keith mentioned, he sounded pretty content.

"Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow, then", Mick meant and then told him his address before they said their goodbyes.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
it took me a while posting this, even though I had it finished for a week or so already. But I just didn't feel like posting anything and rather started writing the 9th chapter (+noting down ideas for the 10th) already...  
Finally Mick and Keith get to meet again in this chapter, even though they won't talk too much...but this also will change, eventually...the tags don't say "slow burn" for nothing...hope you enjoy reading this!

After Keith rang the doorbell to Mick's flat, he had to wait for a while until he finally heard shuffling on the other side of the door and eventually Mick opened up for him. He was leaning on his crutches, looking really tired and quite disheveled with his hair all messy, spotting stubbles on his pale cheeks. 

"Hi. Sorry, I cannot move too fast with these", Mick explained almost sheepishly. "Come on in", he added, awkwardly moving aside to let Keith in. 

"Hey. It's all good", Keith assured him with a little smile as he closed the door behind himself and Mick just nodded. 

"How are you?", Mick asked him then as he slowly made his way over to the living room, Keith trailing behind him. As they were passing the kitchen, Keith could see that there were some dishes standing around, but it didn't look too bad. Except for some clothes, and papers and empty food bags lying around scattered, the living room wasn't too messed up either. Keith's own old flat had looked way worse in retrospect, but back then obviously he didn't care. Under the influence of drugs, he hadn't cared about anything. Except how and when he'd get his next shot. Now, finally clean, he was way more observant, way more sensitive to everything going on around him, either. 

"I'm better than I've been in months, it's good to have a clear mind for once…", he admitted as Mick carefully lowered himself down on a chair at the dining table, indicating for Keith to take a seat as well. 

"I'm really glad you decided to get clean", he meant and totally sounded like it. "And again, I'm really sorry for what I said back at the hospital...I just...I was afraid for Mona", Mick told him and Keith nodded in agreement. He'd figured that much already. It was only natural and he wasn't holding a grudge against Mick for it. 

"Don't worry, I understand. Actually I should be thanking you and Mona...", Keith admitted almost sheepishly. And before Mick could interject anything, he added: "Where's Mona?"

"Sleeping...she already woke me up before 6am this morning but earlier she fell asleep again", Mick let him know. He actually looked quite exhausted, spotting dark circles around his eyes, his cheeks were hollow. 

"How are you?", Keith dared to ask anyway, even though Mick looked absolutely miserable. 

"Could do better…", he only mumbled, stifling a yawn. "Thanks for coming over, really. You have no idea...", he trailed off, apparently not sure what he wanted to say, but Keith got him anyway. 

"It's alright. Tell me, what do you need me to do? Clean up a little?", he wanted to know, letting his gaze wander through the room. It wasn't a complete mess yet, though it certainly seemed rather untidy, and if nobody else was going to tidy it up a bit, soon it would look like it. 

"Uh...you know, it's really stupid, I...I don't want you to think I need you as a cleaning lady or something, but…", Mick all but stammered and made a gesture around. 

"It's okay. You can't really move around with your leg...Do you want me to tidy up a little?", he said, completely naturally. 

It wasn't a huge deal. There was nothing better for him to do anyway as long as he didn't have a proper job. He hadn't been looking for anything new yet because his psychologist had agreed with him that he needed to do things slowly. He'd told Keith that he shouldn't be exposed to too much stress at the moment because it could endanger the progress he had made so far. At the moment, he was really doing amazing, but he had been warned by his doctors and told by other patients at the rehab clinic that it wouldn't always be that easy. That there would be worse days and that sometimes the craving for drugs would get really bad again. However, Keith didn't want to muse too much about this while things were going uphill for him, he feared he'd only get himself into a negative mindspace again that would throw him back in the end. So helping Mick out a little was exactly the right thing to keep himself distracted for the moment. 

"That would be great, yeah", Mick nodded, he still sounded embarrassed. "But uh...don't use the vacuum cleaner now while Mona's sleeping", he added in an afterthought. 

"No worries", Keith assured him with a lopsided smile. Back when he still had his own flat, it was a total disaster and looked like a bomb had went off but he didn't care in the slightest. Now that he'd been staying at Bill's for the past two weeks since he got to leave the rehab facility, he also made sure to keep things neat around the flat while Bill was out working. Since Keith literally had nothing else to do all day long, Bill had been quite surprised coming back home in the evening, finding his flat all clean. Keith had even cooked dinner for them on some days. He supposed it was the least he could do in return for Bill letting him crash on his couch. 

"Thanks", Mick meant as Keith already got up and stacked together some of the things lying around on the table. He kept bringing dirty dishes to the kitchen, stashing them into the sink and cleaned them off afterwards. Then he picked up clothes that were scattered around, brought the trash downstairs and eventually ended up dusting things off in the living room. Meanwhile, Mick went to his bedroom to check on Mona. He had remembered Keith once more that vacuum cleaning could wait until another time, since the little one was still sleeping. 

Once Keith was done with the kitchen and the living room, which had barely taken him an hour, he called out for Mick to ask if he could help him with anything else. But he didn't get a reply. So he went over to where Mick's bedroom was. He knocked at the door first, but as he still didn't get an answer, he just slightly pushed it open to peek inside. The room was kept much tidier than the others, but probably because Mona was there a lot of the time. Her small wooden crib was standing at the foot end of the double bed, but Mona wasn't lying inside it. Instead, Mick lay curled up on his own bed with his baby daughter cuddled up next to him, both sound asleep. Keith felt warmth spreading in his chest taking in this peaceful and endearing sight and a little smile crept onto his face almost unknowingly. After a short tranquil moment just standing there, he carefully retreated back onto the floor, calmly closing the door as to not stir Mick or his baby awake. 

On a dresser by the telephone Keith found some pens and paper lying around. He picked up a pen and noted down Bill's number for Mick to reach out to him, with the note to just call him whenever he needed to. Before he left, Keith stuck the piece of paper to the mirror on the floor for Mick to easily find it later. 

As so often these days, Mick woke up because Mona was restless and getting a little cranky. When he opened his eyes to his unsettled daughter, he still felt as exhausted as before. Nevertheless he sat up and then picked up Mona, softly rocking her in his arms. 

"Hey, my beautiful girl...what's going on?", he said to her in a calming voice, gently running a hand over her tiny head. "Yeah, I hear you, sweety…are you hungry?"

"Keith?", he called out then to check whether he still was there, but apparently he had left already. Mick didn't know for how long he'd been asleep, but considering that he still felt incredibly tired, it couldn't have been too long. 

"It's all good, little darling, I'm going to get you something, okay?", he continued to calm down Mona. After a while she stopped wriggling around and he skidded to the foot end of the bed, until he could carefully place her into her crib. 

"Just give me a little moment, sweety, I'll be with you again right away", he told Mona, who still was a bit restless. But it was the only way to handle things. He couldn't walk without his crutches yet and neither could he use them when holding Mona. 

Staggering through the floor on his way over to the kitchen, he passed the mirror, his pale face with hollow cheeks looking back at him. While the thought crossed his mind that he was looking like total crap and he totally could need a shower, he noticed the slice of paper stuck to the mirror. So he hobbled a little closer and leaned against the dresser in order to retrieve it. There was a phone number scribbled on it alongside a note by Keith. 

_Didn't want to wake you, you looked like you could need the sleep. Just call me whenever you need me, I'm glad to help out. This is my mate's number, I'm staying with him - Keith'_

Once more Mick was overcome by the thought that he didn't deserve Keith's help after the way he had yelled at him. He was way too good of a guy and Mick actually felt ashamed that he couldn't even have stayed awake earlier to chat a little more to him, just to get to know him better. But he'd been so exhausted that he had barely been able to think clearly, let alone make civil conversation. As Mona lightly started crying again, he stuck the piece of paper back to the mirror with the intention of calling Keith in the evening. Then he grabbed his crutches and made his way over to the kitchen to prepare some of the baby food the nurses had told him to buy for Mona. 

Bringing the bottle with baby milk back to the bedroom wasn't an easy task when he needed both of his hands to lean on the crutches. But by now he had come up with a makeshift plan that would help him carry it by placing it inside a bag that he could still somehow hold while walking with crutches. It was annoying and cumbersome but it was the only solution he could come up with. When sending his mother back home, obviously he hadn't thought about things like these. But he supposed that as long as he was innovative and creative enough, it wasn't all bad. 

And it wasn't like he was all alone. Charlie stopped by at least two times a week for a while, bringing him food and keeping him company. Also Ian had been there quite a few times already, even though he was living at the other end of town and it took him ages getting home after work. Now there was Keith, too, who had offered his help, but reminding himself of that, Mick got a bad conscience once more. He hadn't even cared to ask him where he was living at the moment. If it was a long way over on the tube or if this mate he was staying with lived somewhere not too far away. There certainly were a lot of things he didn't know about him yet, but after everything he had learned about Keith so far, he still trusted him enough to allow him being around, helping him out. 

When Mick had managed to feed Mona a little of the baby milk, she seemed calmer again and he kept sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard, cradling her against his chest. Although with himself and Mona there were two people living in this flat, it still felt emptier than before. Sometimes Mick had the feeling that Tessa was just in the other room, or she was out buying groceries and would be back each moment. But she never came back. Other times, he woke up in the middle of the night, not because Mona was crying or restless, but because his sleeping pattern had been completely messed up. Then he was disoriented for a few seconds, sometimes even reaching out a hand, expecting to find Tessa next to him, but most of the time, if Mona was sleeping in her crib, he only touched empty space. Then his brain caught up on everything and he realised that Tessa was gone. That he'd never wake up again to find her peacefully sleeping beside him, that Mona and him would have to live without her from now on. 

Being overcome by thoughts like these always left him weeping and the worst of it was that everything around the flat reminded him of Tessa. He hadn't been able to open her side of the closet in days because seeing all her clothes, remembering occasions where she had been wearing them, made him break down the first time he carelessly had pulled open the closet door. The green dress she had been wearing on their first date, the rose scarf she had loved to wear all the time, these dark blue skinny jeans he'd helped her struggling out of the night they'd first made love, the oversized sweater she liked on lazy cold days spent inside. On the walls, there were pictures of them and sometimes he found himself mindlessly staring at them for minutes on end. Re-living the memories connected to them in his mind. Them happily smiling into the camera on her birthday two years ago, them standing arm in arm at the beach in Brighton where they'd been for their last holiday trip, Tessa in a field of wildflowers during a hike they'd went on one weekend, Mick's hand and hers on her belly a few months back when it had started to show that she was pregnant. 

Almost every single thing in the flat held memories of Tessa and while lying wide awake one night, Mick wondered whether his Mother had been right all along and he should have come to Manchester with her. Start new, to not be reminded of her all day long. He didn't feel, though, that this would be the right way for him to handle things. There must be another approach that didn't involve running away, that didn't feel like he'd just give up. Of course he had to keep on going for Mona, but he needed to find another way of getting his life back. Keeping Tessa's memory without moving, but without being crushed by it either. He was aware that eventually he might have to get rid of some things, like most of her clothes. There were some he'd definitely keep, but it probably wouldn't do any good to have it all still around. Only now wasn't the time yet to sort out any clothes, he clearly needed a while longer and he wasn't so sure whether he could do it by himself. Maybe Charlie should be there too, he could need his support for that. 

Most of that day, Mick spent in bed with Mona, holding her, slowly rocking her and talking to her softly, telling her about her mum. That the next day would have been her 29th birthday. Obviously, he ended up drenched in tears, struggling to understand how this all could have happened. How he got there, how he should go on without her, and why this happened to Tessa of all people. They had been happy, everything had been perfect. To be ripped apart like that, from one moment to the other, it was unbearable. 

He only got up to prepare more food for Mona or change her diapers, or go to the loo himself. And he didn't eat much all day long, didn't feel too hungry, but as his stomach started rumbling in the evening, eventually he made his way over to the kitchen after all. Looking into the fridge, he figured that there wasn't too much there anymore and he would have to do with some soup out of the can once again. It was better than nothing at all, still it made him consider calling Charlie or Keith, asking them to buy some food for him the next day. 

In the end, after heating up and eating the potato soup, he settled for ringing Keith, because he remembered his note on the mirror and that he hadn't thanked him yet for cleaning up his kitchen and living room. It all really looked quite neat again now, Keith had even put all the dishes into the cupboards after washing them and had swept the floor. As he had managed to put his plate and spoon into the sink, leaning on only one crutch for doing so, he staggered out onto the floor, over to the telephone. On the way there, he stopped in the bedroom, checking in on Mona, who had fallen asleep again after he fed her earlier. She was all peaceful and sweet, lying underneath her tiny blanket, nuzzled up against a cuddly toy that Tessa had picked out for her. A wave of tenderness swept through Mick's chest, watching over his beautiful baby girl sleeping. At the same time, his heart felt heavy at the thought that Tessa would never get to see her. 

Just as his leg started hurting from standing in the same position for too long, he could rip himself out of his stupor and rememberer what he'd been about to do. Then he left his bedroom and his sleeping daughter behind to pick up the phone and dial the number Keith had left him. 

"This is Bill", some guy answered after the third or fourth ring. It must be the friend Keith was staying with. 

"Hey, uh...this is Mick. I'm calling for Keith. Is he there?", he asked, leaning against the cupboard in order to relieve his leg. 

"Yeah, I'll get him for you", the man at the other end of the line meant. 

"Thanks", Mick said, even though the other already had put down the earphone. 

"Hi, this is Keith", Keith's voice greeted him after a moment. 

"Hi, it's Mick", he gave back. "Uh...I...I just wanted to say thanks again for this morning...and...sorry I just fell asleep on you, I was so tired…", he explained then apologetically because he figured it probably was quite rude to just let Keith do his household chores while he was having a nap himself. 

"It's fine, you don't need to be sorry for that. Did you get some rest at least?", Keith returned, sounding sympathetical. 

"Doesn't really feel like it…", Mick only mumbled, slightly shifting his position because his leg started hurting some more. 

"Do you need me to come over again?", Keith wanted to know. 

"I was wondering whether you could maybe buy some groceries for me tomorrow?", he asked, almost abashedly. Being this coy wasn't like him, usually, but it still was incredibly tough for him asking for help. Even though Keith was so freely offering it. But he wasn't used to it, wasn't used to being this helpless and dependent on other people. He absolutely hated it and wished nothing more than to finally get rid of the cast and crutches so he could at least start to feel whole again. Even though he clearly was aware that these were just the injuries he had on the outside. His mental scars would probably never heal completely, at least he couldn't imagine there ever being a day where he wouldn't have to think about Tessa. 

"Sure, no problem", he replied without hesitation and Mick let out a little sigh in relief. As if he'd been worried Keith would withdraw his offer all of a sudden, turning his back on him after the way Mick had treated him.

"Thanks", he meant, wanting to say more, but he didn't know what or how to. He just was incredibly grateful and wondering how on earth he ended up being lucky enough to find someone like Keith. They didn't even really know each other, yet Mick trusted him by now because everything Keith had done so far was completely selfless and earnest. 

"Is there anything else?", Keith asked after a silent moment. 

"Your way over to my place isn't too far, is it?", Mick remembered. He didn't want to be even more of an inconvenience to him than he already was. 

"No...it's not that far, just fifteen minutes on the tube", Keith explained and Mick thought he could hear him chuckle a little. 

"Good...I've got this mate who lives over an hour away…", he added in explanation. 

"It's not a problem, Mick. I'll be there tomorrow", Keith assured him. 

"Alright...but you can tell me if you don't have time", he made it clear to him. 

"I've got nothing but time", came Keith's answer and it made Mick remember something again. 

"Keith?", he asked, as if to test the waters. 

"Yeah?"

"Do you cook?"

"A little, yeah…", Keith gave back, probably thinking now that Mick wanted him to prepare food for him or something. But that wasn't what was on his mind at all. 

"Do you maybe want to cook lunch together tomorrow?", he asked him instead. 

The thought had crossed his mind earlier while spooning up his soup all by himself. Even though he'd asked his mother and aunt to leave because he couldn't stand their constant company and needed to be alone, at times he felt lonely now. He'd been living with Tessa for almost three years, he wasn't used to their flat being this empty. Of course he had Mona, but she was a small baby. He could talk to her and hold her, hug her close at night when they both couldn't sleep for various reasons. But it wasn't like she could reply to him, lead a conversation. Not being able to leave the house, go to work and have social contacts there, was horrible to endure. If Keith hadn't been there this morning, then Mick would have went two days without talking face to face with another adult person. Charlie and Ian called him sometimes, on days they couldn't make it around, and of course his mum did as well every other day. Talking on the phone was better than not talking at all, but it still wasn't the same. Mick knew he'd brought this upon himself by making his mum leave, and for most of the day he was glad having his time alone, just trying to understand what had happened. Making his mind catch up to the reality of his current life. But he still couldn't deny that he really needed someone to just be around sometimes, maybe not even necessarily to listen to what he had to say. Just to be there with him, keeping him company, telling him something new. He could already tell that the next day would probably be everything but easy for him. It was Tessa's birthday…

"Yeah, sure, why not", Keith agreed and Mick actually was glad he did. Knowing that Keith would stop by and he wouldn't be all by himself the whole time made it seem a little more endurable at least. 

"Okay, fine."

"Is it okay to drop by at 11am tomorrow?"

"It's perfect", he said, nodding, even though Keith couldn't see it. 

"Alright...so...see you tomorrow, then. Sleep well, Mick", Keith meant and for some reason the simple act of hearing him say his own name like that, made Mick feel a little less sad and a little less lonely. 

"Yeah, you too, Keith", he answered, before hanging up the phone and hobbling back to his bedroom, looking after Mona.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
sorry updating took me a while longer but it's a long chapter and as some of you might have noticed, I started a new story as well, written as something like interconnected oneshots.   
I hope you enjoy this new chapter here and as always, thank you a lot for reading and your input, it's much apprecciated.

The next morning, when Keith arrived at Mick's place, Mick appeared even worse than the day before. He was wearing the exact same clothes, looked like he hadn't got a single minute of sleep at night and like he could desperately need a shower.

"Hey", Keith greeted him, mustering Mick's shabby appearance, as he only nodded in reply. He looked absolutely miserable, weak and with dark circles underneath his eyes. For a moment, Keith was worried that Mick would lose his grip on his crutches and collapse on the spot. 

"How are you?", Keith wanted to know then, because Mick seemed everything but alright. 

"I don't wanna talk about it…", he mumbled and then pressed a grocery list and some money, way more than needed, into Keith's hands. "Please, keep the rest, it's for helping me out. Thanks for coming over again today", he added almost curtly, not directly looking at Keith. 

"Thanks", he just returned, somewhat sheepishly because he didn't quite know what else he could say without coming across as annoying or out of his place. "I'll be back soon. Are you still up for cooking some lunch?", he inquired then, also because Mick seemed like he could totally need a proper meal. 

"I don't know...I'll think about it till you're back", Mick returned. Even his voice sounded exhausted, lacking of any spirit. 

"You look like you haven't slept or eaten in days...", Keith couldn't stop himself from commenting, even though his own sleeping schedule was rather messed up as well at the moment. But obviously, Mick didn't know that. The doctors at the rehab clinic had warned him that he could possibly experience insomnia due to the effects the drugs and detox had left on his body. So far it hadn't been too bad, although recently he'd spent quite some hours wide awake instead of sleeping. He found himself restless then, his mind tired, but his body still energised. Sometimes he got up and went outside for a walk then, trying to tire himself out. Everything was nice and quiet in the middle of the night, aimlessly wandering through the streets helped him coming down again. 

"Stop acting like my mother", Mick only gave back, but he didn't even possess the energy to sound annoyed about it. Still, Keith realised that he might have overstepped his boundaries with his prior statement. 

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to...I'll go to the supermarket now", he announced, a bit abashed and Mick only nodded once again, before Keith went on his way downstairs. 

While Keith was strolling through the aisles of the nearby supermarket, looking for everything on Mick's list, he wondered whether he should have just kept his mouth shut. Mick was right, obviously. Keith wasn't his mother, he wasn't even his friend, he barely knew him. It wasn't his place to tell him to eat something or make other comments like that. But the fact that for once Keith himself wasn't the most fucked up person around had made him realise just how badly Mick was doing. Only a couple weeks ago he wouldn't have cared, wouldn't even have noticed. But now that he wasn't constantly intoxicated anymore, he could process everything more clearly again, actually take in what was going on around him. And it was more than obvious that Mick was as far from being alright as could be. Keith already had come so far that by now he aware that he needed help himself. Otherwise he wouldn't be going to his doctor's appointments and to therapy. But maybe he wasn't quite the right person to try looking out for Mick yet, not while he still was recovering himself. It also was clearly obvious that Mick didn't want anyone patronising him, otherwise he wouldn't have sent his mother away. Still, Keith couldn't stop feeling that he couldn't just stand by and not even try to say something. 

By the time he was done buying all the groceries, he had decided not to mention Mick's current condition again. Instead, he'd just leave him be and maybe wait what Mick would offer to tell him on his own accords. After all, if their roles were reversed, Keith wouldn't anybody to tell him what or what not to do either. Mick had lost the woman he loved but he hadn't lost his independence to do what he wanted or needed. 

The door to Mick's flat wasn't locked as Keith returned, so he just went inside, announcing that he was back. When he didn't get an answer, he simply went to the kitchen to put the shopping bag down and sorted everything that needed cooling into the fridge. 

"Mick?", he called out for him once he was done, walking over to the living room. But he wasn't there, either, so Keith mused that he probably had lied down again to get some rest. As he stopped in front of Mick's bedroom, contemplating whether to knock or just leave, he could hear some stifled noise that awfully sounded like crying. But it wasn't Mona who was crying, as Keith had to realise, it was Mick. For a moment, he didn't know what to do, but ultimately he figured that it wouldn't be alright at all to just leave like this, without even letting Mick know or without asking him if he could help. So he lightly knocked at the door, before pushing it open, just standing there in the frame, still not sure what to do or say. Mick was curled up on his bed, leaning against the headboard and holding Mona pressed close to himself, an arm protectively wrapped around her, while in his other hand he was holding a picture. He was drenched in tears and didn't even acknowledge that Keith was standing there, completely overwhelmed by how to best handle the situation. 

"Should I...should I leave, or...can I do anything for you?", he eventually dared to ask in a low voice, quite insecure, while Mick couldn't stop himself from weeping. After a moment, he got out something incomprehensible.

"What?", Keith only asked, because he didn't get him. He felt completely awkward just standing around, with no clue how to act. He'd never been good in situations like these, wasn't sure how to spend comfort, had never been confronted with another bloke bawling his eyes out like this. 

"Today is...it's Tessa's birthday…", he somehow managed to say, crying so hard now that his body was shaking, as he pressed Mona even closer to himself. 

"I'm so sorry, Mick...I really am...do you need anything?", Keith could only return, looking around the room for some tissues he could offer him, to do at least something, and eventually spotted some on the nightstand that Mick had turned his back towards. 

"I need her back...", he mumbled, his voice thick with tears, as Keith awkwardly approached and in this moment, Mona started getting somewhat grumpy, wiggling around in Mick's arms. While trying to better hold his daughter, starting to rock her lightly, the picture slid out of his hand. Keith couldn't stop himself from directing his gaze down to catch a glimpse of it. There was a beautiful woman with wavy brunette hair, wearing a red sundress and smiling radiantly into the camera, as a very delighted, clean-shaven Mick had an arm draped around her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

"She was beautiful...I'm so, so sorry about what happened…", Keith started, only eliciting another sob out of Mick, who was still trying unsuccessfully to handle his cranky baby girl. 

"Is there anything I can do for you? Should I try to calm down Mona?", Keith added almost carefully as if he feared to disturb both of them even more. Then he picked up the tissues, handing one of them to Mick, who took it to blow his nose.

"I think...I think she's, she's hungry, maybe…", Mick could finally get out, his voice all hoarse from crying so much. 

"Should I prepare some food for her?", Keith offered and Mick only nodded, mumbling something about baby milk and some powder in the fridge. 

"Do you want something as well?", Keith inquired, mustering him carefully. 

"I'm not hungry…", Mick only returned, gently running a hand over Mona's small head. 

"Mick, look...I don't try patronising you, but…", he started, just to get disrupted. 

"Then just don't…", Mick returned, sounding almost matter of factly. 

"I'll get something for Mona", Keith meant before retreating to the kitchen to give Mick some space. He totally would have cooked something for him, soup maybe, or whatever else Mick wanted. But since he said he wasn't hungry, Keith just sighed, opening the fridge to look for Mona's baby food. 

It took a while for Keith to prepare everything and return to the bedroom, but when he did, Mick had managed to calm Mona down again and was quietly talking to her in a soothing voice. 

"Here, I made her bottle", Keith announced, giving it to Mick so he could feed his baby. He first checked out the temperature before he offered it to Mona who eagerly started sucking. 

"What's that?", he wanted to know then, eyeing the cup Keith still was holding in his other hand.

"I...made you hot chocolate", he explained, hoping that Mick wouldn't feel imposed on once more. 

"You...did?", he asked, as if he hadn't expected this at all, actually staring at Keith out of big, still teary eyes. 

"I just thought ...well…I mean, if you don't like it, I'll just…", Keith tried to explain himself, assuming that Mick might get unnerved about this as well. 

"No, it's...I like it, thanks", he replied, almost to Keith's astonishment, mentioning for him to place the cup on the nightstand. 

"I thought you could need some hot chocolate...", he meant, it nearly sounded like a justification. But he'd simply wanted to do something, anything, to try and make Mick feel at least a little bit less miserable. And since hot chocolate always worked for Keith, he'd decided to go for it after finding a chocolate bar in the kitchen. 

"Thanks", Mick simply repeated. As he put Mona's bottle down for a moment, taking a sip of the hot chocolate, he let out a little approving noise that made Keith smile lightly to himself. Apparently hot chocolate never failed to do the trick of cheering someone up. 

"Do you want me to stay another while?", he asked then and Mick only nodded. Keith sat down at the foot end of the bed, watching Mick feeding Mona after he'd put his cup down on the nightstand. It was an almost calming sight, observing Mick leaning there against the headboard of the bed, his nearly two months old daughter safely cradled in his arms. She was adorable and perfect and it was almost a bit of a miracle that she even had survived. For these few moments, only focusing on his baby, Mick seemed serene, like his grief had vanished. 

"I don't know…I don't know what to do without her…", he said, however, after a while where they'd just sat on the bed in somewhat like companionable silence, both observing Mona, who was an incredibly endearing sight. There was obvious desperation and the most painful heartbreak audible in Mick's voice. 

"There's Mona...", Keith only gave back because there was nothing better he could come up with. There was no consolation to something like this, nothing that he could say would make Mick's pain any less bitter, his sorrow any more agreeable. 

"And I cannot even handle her...I need Tessa...I miss her so badly…", Mick returned, clearly close to tearing up again, pressing Mona a little closer to his chest, maybe in an attempt to console himself. 

"You aren't doing too bad caring for Mona…", Keith started, but Mick didn't want to hear it. 

"Stop bullshitting me, Keith…", he meant, but didn't sound harsh, only rational. "I cannot even carry her around, I can barely make her bottle and bring it to her…"

"You will be able to do all that and more once your leg is healed", Keith tried to remember him, but only got back a resigned sigh. 

"It takes forever…"

"I'm glad to help. Just let me know", he assured him. Mick simply nodded lightly, focusing on his daughter again. For another while, neither of them said a word to each other, Mick only kept quietly whispering to his baby girl and Keith let him be, giving him some space. Just as he was wondering whether to leave soon and go back to Bill's, their silence was disrupted by Keith's stomach rumbling. He remembered that he hadn't eaten anything since he had some slices of toast and some coffee for breakfast. 

"Are you hungry?", Mick wanted to know, looking over to where Keith was leaning against the foot end of the bed. 

"I'm good…", he simply said, but Mick shook his head. 

"I'm sorry...I asked you to cook lunch with me and then we didn't…", he meant. "You should eat something if you're hungry." 

"It's fine, Mick, really", Keith tried to downplay it. Obviously, he wasn't annoyed about the fact that they didn't get to cook lunch together. Even though it might have been some distraction for Mick. However, Keith could understand that he didn't feel like cooking or eating at all that day. 

"Please, get yourself something from the fridge if you like", Mick encouraged him.

"Are you having something as well?", he inquired, hoping that Mick would agree now. 

"Not hungry...and I still got your hot chocolate", he gave back, though, making Keith sigh a little. 

"Do you wanna go home?", Mick wanted to know after a moment as Keith didn't get up to get himself some food.

"Do you want me to?", he asked back and Mick just shrugged. If he asked him to stay, Keith most certainly would. And if he wanted him to leave so he could be alone, Keith would oblige, too. He didn't want to overstep his boundaries again, didn't want to contribute to making Mick feel worse than he already did. 

"Can you hold Mona for a while?", he returned instead of answering the question. 

"Of course, yeah", Keith naturally agreed, getting up from where he was sitting to take the baby from Mick. She was sucking on her dummy, staring at him out of huge hazel eyes and he couldn't help himself but smiling at that sight.

"Just...have a look at her...I gotta go to the bathroom…", Mick explained, awkwardly shuffling around on the bed, grabbing for his crutches, until he finally managed to get up. 

"Do you wanna take a shower? I mean...since I'm around to look after Mona...", Keith suggested because Mick looked like he could definitely need a nice hot shower. Maybe it would help him feel a little better. At least he knew from his own experience that it might actually make him feel less shitty. 

"I guess…I could, yeah...", he finally meant as he'd made his way halfway through the room. 

"How are you dealing with the cast not soaking?", Keith wanted to know out of interest. 

"Plastic bag…", Mick only said. 

"Uhm...you get along with that, right?"

"Don't worry, I got a tub...it's annoying and messy and...I'm kinda scared to slip while getting in or out, but…", he all but rambled as he stopped by the door. 

"That's what I meant", Keith explained, sitting down on the bed again with Mona in his arms. 

"I'll be fine...I won't lock the door", Mick stated and Keith nodded in agreement. 

"Okay. I'll be right here with Mona." 

"Thanks, Keith…", Mick added, actually sounding grateful, as he was almost out of the door already. 

"No worries", he replied, a little smile tugging at his lips as he regarded the small baby wrapped up in his arms. 

"Mick? Is everything alright?", he called through the bathroom door, but didn't get a reply at first. Mick had been in there for ages and he'd heard him swearing quite obviously a few minutes ago, so he'd figured he needed to make sure that he was alright. Mona had fallen asleep a while ago, so he'd carefully placed her down in her crib before going to check on Mick. 

"Mick?", he called out again, as he could just hear him crying inside the bathroom, getting somewhat concerned. 

"Did you hurt yourself?", Keith wanted to know, not able to keep the concern out of his voice. What if he'd slipped and fallen and injured himself even further? 

"No…", finally came a muffled answer and Keith felt oddly relieved at that. He didn't know how to have handled a situation where Mick had actually gotten injured somehow. 

"Can I...do you want me to come in?", he asked after a moment, still unsure of what to do. 

"Yeah…it's not locked...", Mick's muffled voice replied as Keith already pushed open the door. 

Mick was sitting on the floor underneath the window, his back leaned against the wall, both of his legs outstretched. There was some water splashed around on the floor and a wet plastic bag still wrapped around his cast. He had managed to pull on a black t-shirt, but there was only a towel covering the lower part of his body. His stubble was gone, his hair was still damp and he was obviously drenched in tears with his eyes all red and cheeks wet from crying. As he spotted Keith approaching, he broke down in tears once more as Keith kneeled on the floor beside him, not caring that his jeans were soaking in water.

"Hey...hey, wait...we'll get you up from there", he meant in a calming manner, already reaching out to grab Mick underneath his arms to pull him up. He didn't quite know what he was doing, only was reacting to the situation at hand, but it was obvious that Mick couldn't get up by himself and needed his help. "It's okay...just hold onto me", he encouraged him and Mick, still sobbing, wrapped an arm around Keith's neck, his other hand holding on to the towel, as Keith lifted him up from the floor. Mick was leaning his full weight against him as Keith shifted around until he could lower him down onto the toilet seat. 

"What happened?", he wanted to know, crouching down as if talking to a kid, while one of Mick's hands was still clinging to Keith's t-shirt. 

"My leg was hurting and...I just…", Mick trailed off, his voice thick with tears as he let go of Keith to pull his towel closer around himself. 

"Are you okay?", Keith questioned, sure that the look he was giving Mick mirrored his concern. 

"I'm sorry about that…", Mick gave back instead of answering his question. 

"There's nothing to be sorry for", Keith assured him, still a bit worried about the condition Mick was in. 

"I...I'm somewhat hurting...bloody leg", he eventually admitted, not directly looking at Keith. 

"Do you need to go see a doctor?"

"No...no I just...I'm sorry for asking that but...I...I just need some help...dressing...uh...with the pants and all…", Mick stammered and blushed in embarrassment, pulling the towel even closer around himself. 

"It's not a problem…", Keith simply reassured him. It wasn't a big deal after all. 

"I'm so sorry", Mick mumbled, his gaze still averted to his hands that were gripping the towel tightly. 

"Mick, it's fine, really", he told him again.

He wasn't a nurse or anything like that but thinking back of his time during detox, he supposed he gave them a really hard run for their money during these few days. Assisting Mick with something as mundane as just pulling his pants up didn't even come close to what they had to do every single day for Keith while he was there, and all the other patients as well. 

"I uh…", Mick started, but trailed off again, apparently not sure what to say to that. 

"I won't look, I promise", Keith chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood. Once more, Mick actually blushed a tad, but nevertheless he finally lifted his gaze and Keith could see tears shining in his blue eyes. 

"Thanks...I...I don't know what I'd do without you here right now, Keith…", his voice broke in the end and a sob escaped him. 

"Well, good thing then that I'm here", he meant in a light manner, but it only made Mick cry more. His body was rocking because he was sobbing so hard and eventually he just leaned forward, clinging onto Keith as if to search a hold on him. 

"Hey...it's fine...you're gonna be okay...", Keith tried calming him down, awkwardly wrapping his arms around his upper body, just holding him while he was weeping, because it was the only thing he could think of doing. 

"Are you in pain?", he proceeded asking, carefully running a hand over his back to try and soothe him, but Mick only shook his head, holding onto Keith a little tighter, pressing his face to Keith's chest. 

He had no idea how long they stayed like that, Mick sitting on the toilet seat, leaning against Keith, crying his eyes out while Keith, more or less awkwardly, tried soothing him by simply holding him in his arms, running his hands over Mick's back in a calming manner. Eventually, Mick started to get calmer. His sobs turned into little hicks until he just sniffled a bit, still grabbing onto Keith for dear life. 

"Are you alright?", Keith dared asking after what seemed like an eternity. He could feel that his t-shirt was stained wet where Mick's face had been resting against his chest. Almost subconsciously, he had randomly dug a hand into Mick's hair, messing it up in an attempt of a soothing gesture. It still took Mick a moment to be able to reply and Keith felt him actually leaning into his touch some more, almost as if he was enjoying this closeness, maybe he even needed it. Thoughtlessly, Keith kept lightly combing his fingers through Mick's hair because it seemed to set him at ease. In this moment, his own awkwardness had completely faded and the only thing he wanted was for Mick to be better again and to stop crying. His breath returned to a steadier pace eventually and for a short while, Mick nuzzled his face against Keith's chest unintentionally, letting out a quiet sigh. Then, he seemed to realise and pulled back, finally letting go again of Keith. 

"I...I didn't mean to….", he stammered, his cheeks turning pink. 

"It's alright", Keith repeated once more. 

"I'm sorry…", Mick said yet again and Keith honestly didn't know what he kept apologising for. He certainly didn't need to be sorry for being devastated about losing Tessa, or about needing help with his household and Mona. It was all completely understandable. Neither did he need to apologise for not managing to dress himself, or for breaking down sobbing in Keith's arms. Keith felt deeply sorry for him, for what had happened to him, it made him incredibly compassionate towards Mick. 

"Mick...stop apologising. It's fine, really", he mentioned yet again. "You wanna put some pants on now, or what?", he added then, smirking and Mick nodded in reply. 

As anticipated, it wasn't a big deal. Mick ended up doing most of the work of getting dressed himself, even though he flinched at one point because his injured leg was stinging quite badly. Then they had to stop for a moment until the pain passed. Mick mostly needed Keith to hold him so he wouldn't topple over and fall, but in the end, they successfully managed to get him dressed in some grey sweatpants. 

"I think I need to lie down a little…", Mick said, leaning on one of his crutches while Keith had an arm still wrapped around his waist after he helped him get up. 

"Are you good to walk on your own?", he inquired. 

"Can you...", Mick started, letting his unfinished question hanging in the air. But Keith understood either way. 

"Of course", he replied without Mick having to finish his sentence and together they maneuvered their way out of the bathroom and over to Mick's bedroom where Mona was still peacefully asleep in her crib. 

"Are you okay for now?", Keith wanted to know as Mick had settled down in his bed. He only nodded in reply. "Do you need anything?"

"I shouldn't be asking that of you...after everything you've done for me already...but...would you maybe stay a little while longer?", Mick replied all shy, focusing on pulling his blanket up in order to not have to look at Keith. "I...I can't be alone just yet…", he added, barely audible, his gaze fixed on his own hands. "I mean I understand if you rather want to leave now, you've been here long enough, but…", he continued rambling, until Keith simply disrupted him. 

"Do you mind me getting something to eat first?", Keith gave back because he was really hungry by now. A look at his watch told him that it was late afternoon already and he honestly couldn't tell where all the time went. He didn't mind staying with Mick for another while. Bill probably wasn't home from work yet anyway, so he'd just sit around at his flat by himself, probably watching some dull programme on the telly. 

"Of course not! Take whatever you want, please!", Mick gave back as if he had only just remembered now that they hadn't eaten anything in hours. 

"Are you hungry too?", Keith questioned, wondering what Mick's reply would be this time. 

"Did you buy toast?", he gave back, almost to Keith's surprise, who'd thought Mick would declare yet again that he wasn't hungry. 

"Yeah. Do you want some?"

"With jam?", Mick replied, almost sounding like a kid asking for a scoop of ice cream. 

"Sure, I'll make some", Keith meant, a little smile crossing his face before he went over to the kitchen to prepare something to eat for them. 

"I...I don't understand you, Keith. Why are you doing this, helping me? What are you getting out of this?", Mick inquired once they'd each eaten up - or rather hungrily wolfed down - some slices of toast. He was leaning against the headboard of his bed, holding Mona who was agreeably calm and adorable, while Keith had taken place on a chair that he'd placed at the side of the bed. 

"I feel like...it's because of you and Mona that I'm here right now. I feel thankful for still being around...and I wanna give something back. You, Mona...you helped me without even knowing it when I needed it the most...and...you need help right now. I literally have nothing better to do at the moment...so that's why I wanna help you too...", Keith admitted, telling Mick what he'd told his therapist before. The psychologist had even encouraged him to contact Mick and tell him this, since he figured it was important for Keith to let Mick know. Now that he finally had done so, Keith actually felt tranquil and a little more at ease about everything. He was there, trying to help Mick because he felt incredibly grateful to have gotten that second chance at doing things differently, better. Since he nearly died of an overdose, it had become more than apparent to him that he needed to change things if he wanted to go on, if he didn't want to die like that. But in order to clearly see this and accept it, first he had to meet Mick and Mona. 

"How do you think Mona and I helped you?", Mick wanted to know, mustering him somewhat curiously. It was the first time they actually were leading a proper conversation since they were out of the hospital. Not just talking out of the moment, or because the situation required it, or because Keith was asking Mick if he was alright or needed anything. 

"I don't think I'd have done detox otherwise, without experiencing this...when you first needed help with Mona, and she actually stopped crying...that was...I still don't know how to describe this moment, it was extraordinary. But otherwise, I'm certain I'd have left that hospital and went straight back to taking drugs…", he confessed. What he said was amazingly earnest and it had taken him a while to even admit this to himself, let alone his therapist. But talking to Mick about it felt like a huge step. Never before had Keith thought that he'd be able to convey his feelings this freely and unabashedly. Now that he finally could, it almost felt purifying. 

"I'm glad we could help you, Keith...and I'm also glad you're still around...cause I really don't know what I'd done without you today…", Mick admitted in a quiet voice.

"I'm glad, too…", Keith simply agreed and he actually was feeling content. 

"Can you stay with me for a little while longer? I...I don't wanna be alone just yet…", Mick sheepishly asked again after a while, his eyes fixed on Mona who was sucking on her bottle. 

"Sure….", he nodded, before placing his empty plate on the nightstand. 

"Sorry for ruining your day like this…", Mick told him, lifting his gaze towards Keith. He actually looked apologetical. 

"You didn't. I told you already...there's nothing else for me to do at the moment anyway. I'd much rather be here with you than being bored at Bill's place…", Keith meant and for the first time he realised that maybe helping Mick was further helping him as well. Like this, Keith wasn't alone, either, he had a distraction, something actually useful to do. Otherwise, all by himself, alone with his thoughts and nothing to keep him occupied, it probably would be harder not to end up thinking about and craving for drugs again. 

"Thanks...", Mick mumbled. 

"It's alright...I'm here because I want to be", he clarified. 

"I...I was so afraid of being alone, today of all days…", Mick admitted as Mona apparently wasn't hungry anymore and he put the bottle down, lifting her up and carefully patting her back to burp her. 

"I hope me being here helped", Keith returned with a smile, as he observed Mick cooing to his little girl. 

"Probably I couldn't even have fed Mona if it wasn't for you…", he mumbled, before pressing a little kiss to Mona's brow. 

"I'm sure you would have managed...she's so endearing", Keith commented. Watching Mick interact with Mona was completely adorable. "Don't believe that you're not being a good father for her, Mick, because you are", he added, making Mick look up at him almost in astonishment which probed him to explain: "I've seen the way you're caring for her...you're doing really fine." 

"She's the only reason for me to get out of bed…", he confessed, sounding somewhat ashamed. At first, Keith wasn't sure what to reply to that. He didn't need to have studied psychology to recognise that Mick was being depressed over losing Tessa. 

"Are you seeing someone?", he eventually settled for, risking to make Mick feeling patronised yet again. 

"What?", Mick asked as if Keith had just said something completely inappropriate. 

"A...a therapist, I mean…", he clarified after he noticed that his question could have sounded odd. 

"Oh...not at the moment, no…but they told me at the hospital that I should, once I was fit enough to move around properly…", Mick explained with a shrug, almost as if he didn't care. 

"Will you go see one?", Keith just straight out asked. He was sure that the only reason they could be talking about this so openly was that they both were aware from their time together at the hospital that they'd each needed to see a psychologist there. 

"Did it work for you? Talking to Doctor Oldman at the hospital?", Mick asked back as if he'd just had the very same thought. 

"I'm seeing a therapist from the rehab centre once a week. It's part of the rehabilitation programme", Keith told him and Mick only nodded. 

"I don't really see how it would make anything any better...not in my case", he replied after a silent moment. 

"Actually, I thought the same at first…", Keith agreed, about to tell Mick how things had changed for himself, but he interjected before Keith could continue. 

"But you wanna get better…"

"Don't you?", Keith asked, nearly baffled. 

"There's nothing wrong with me...except for my bloody leg…", Mick said, there was some bitterness audible in his voice now that hadn't been there before. 

"Mick…", he started, but before he could find any words to proceed, Mick had already cut him off again. 

"I don't care if you think it would help me...just talking to some shrink won't bring her back", he meant, sounding stubborn and a bit upset. 

Before Keith could manage to reply anything to that, the doorbell rang. He already was getting up to open the door, without Mick even having asked him to, but didn't make it far, as some guy just stepped inside. 

"Mick! Who is that?", the other man wanted to know, staring back and forth between Mick and Keith almost a little alarmed. 

"Hey, Charlie...this is Keith...maybe you remember him from the hospital?", Mick replied rather casually and Keith noticed recognition flicker in the other man's eyes. 

"I do...but why are you here?", Charlie questioned Keith who oddly felt like being interrogated. It didn't make things any better that Mick's friend - he remembered him from the hospital as well - was mustering him quite hostile.

"How did you get in?", Mick asked, before Keith could answer Charlie's question. 

"You gave me a key, remember?", Charlie mentioned and Mick nodded. 

"Right…", he muttered. 

"I'm helping Mick out", Keith piped up, directing Charlie's attention back at himself. 

"I'm here to help you out", Charlie said, sounding all but outraged as he turned his gaze back towards Mick. 

"It's fine, Charlie. Keith's been a huge help for me today", Mick let him know and Charlie only nodded at that. 

"How are you?", he wanted to know then, just focusing on his friend now. 

"Could do better…", was the only thing Mick returned. 

"Do you want me to leave?", Keith inquired, directed at Mick, but it was Charlie who answered first. 

"I think it's better if you do."

"You don't have to, but if you'd like", Mick returned, not sounding as abrasive as his mate.

"Okay, I'll leave you two alone then", Keith took the clue from Charlie, who still was giving him a disapproving look for some inexplicable reason. It definitely managed to make him feel rather unwelcome, so he decided it would be best to leave. "Will you call me when you need me again, Mick?"

"I will...thanks for everything, Keith", he returned and the look Mick gave him actually mirrored gis gratefulness. 

"It's fine...see you, Mick!", Keith meant, curtly nodding at Charlie, before finally getting on his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I mentioned in the introduction to my latest story, I'm kinda considering having a beta reader again. Not really for grammar or stuff but rather just for discussing scenes or so in case I get stuck, it might be fun and I haven't had a beta in ages. So in case any of you might be interested, just let me know here (or on Tumblr @ronnie-woody), I'd be happy about trying this out again :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
sorry that it took me a whole month to update this and that this chapter got shorter than all the ones before.   
I have been focused on "Cause Love's Such an Old Fashioned Word" lately and the last week or so I had a bit of trouble writing at all because I felt pressured by myself. That's why I decided to make this chapter here shorter because otherwise I could feel myself slipping into a writer's block and obviously I want to avoid that.   
I already know what will happen in the next two chapters, though, even started writing already. From now on, hopefully, there will even be more interaction between Mick and Keith. Anyway, I hope you're enyoing this chapter even tho it's just a short one...thanks for reading!

"He's a bloody junkie!", Charlie all but yelled once Keith was out of the door. "What the hell is he doing here?", he added a tad quieter but not less outraged as Mick indicated him that he shouldn't be too loud because of Mona. 

"He's helping me, Charlie. He's been here yesterday, cleaning up my stuff. He's been here all day now and thankfully so, cause otherwise I'd spent half of the afternoon on the bathroom floor, not getting up anymore", Mick explained, almost confused as to why Charlie was this freaked out. Then again, he didn't know that Keith had gotten clean and was on the mend, that he honestly attempted to turn his life around. 

"Did you fall?", Charlie inquired as he heard this, apparently momentarily forgetting about Keith. 

The expression on his face mirrored his concern and Mick became aware that Charlie was only this outraged about Keith because he obviously cared about him and Mona, and wanted to make sure that they were alright. Still, he didn't think it was completely necessary to react in this way. Then again, he recalled his own initial reaction to finding out about Keith's drug habits and couldn't even blame Charlie for simply wanting to look out for him. He was his best friend after all, it was completely natural that he wanted the best for him. 

"My leg hurt...but that's not the point. Keith was there and it's a good thing he was. He...I couldn't even get my pants on by myself…", he admitted, not without getting a little flustered because it nearly felt a bit dehumanising having to admit to being this dependant on someone else. He'd always been one to greatly cherish his freedom, needing to ask someone else for help wasn't much like him, it made him feel insecure and useless.

"But why does he do that?", his best friend wanted to know, staring at him in question, as apparently he had calmed down again. 

"Because...he went to rehab...and he wants to better himself. He wants to help me because he said that helping me with Mona at the hospital made him realise that he needed to get clean and all…", Mick tried to explain, but Charlie only furrowed his brow. 

"That's...the weirdest conclusion I've ever heard. What if he is a crook? What if he just wants to rob you?", Charlie mused, apparently assuming the worst right away. 

"He could have done so yesterday while I was sleeping. You know what he did instead? He cleaned my kitchen and living room and left me a note with his number", Mick tried to persuade him otherwise. 

Not even for a sole moment had he doubted Keith's good intentions. Admittedly, at first he didn't understand his motivation to help out, but once Keith had explained everything to him, and after spending almost the whole day with him, Mick was convinced that Keith didn't mean any harm. Quite on the contrary. After explaining himself, why he wanted to help, his actions made complete sense to Mick and he strongly doubted that somebody who'd plan to rob him would leave back their number to contact them after. 

"You...let him take care of Mona as well?", Charlie inquired, he still sounded wary. 

"He would never hurt her. He adores her because he says that she's the reason he wanted to go to rehab and is still around now…", Mick outright defended Keith to his best friend. 

He might not know Keith too well yet, but the time they'd already spent together had certainly proved to him that Keith cherished and cared for Mona almost as much as Mick did himself. And he clearly remembered what it was like, being all helpless at the hospital, unable to move, knowing that Keith could take care of Mona, even making him feel like he could handle her better than Mick did himself. As far as Mick could tell, there was not an ounce of crookedness in Keith, former junkie or not. 

"I don't understand you, Mick. Why didn't you just call?", Charlie wanted to know, apparently it was a mystery to him that Mick would put so much trust into someone whom he'd only met mere weeks ago. 

"Because you're at work", Mick gave back, short-spoken, wondering whether Charlie might be judging his sagacity and whether he might be thinking that he was behaving irrational because he'd lost Tessa. 

"Shirley's home", Charlie replied matter-of-factly as if it was the most obvious conclusion in the world. 

"Keith is a good person, Charlie. There's nothing crooked about him. He's earnest and selfless and he just wants to help because it makes him feel better. I think it's amazing that he found something that helps him to feel better…", he started rambling, drifting off as some dark thoughts started clogging his mind once more, as he was overcome by an uncertainty about probably never feeling better again, never feeling whole after Tessa had been ripped away from him. 

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to upset you", Charlie apologised as he must have noticed Mick gazing grimly into nothingness. 

"Well, you did…", he muttered almost inaudible but Charlie's sheepish look told him he'd heard him and felt bad about it. 

"I brought some casserole Shirley made...put it down on the drawer in the floor as I came in. Do you want some or should I put it in the fridge?", Charlie came up with a change of topics that Mick was glad about because he didn't want to further have to discuss about getting help from Keith. 

"Thanks…I've already eaten something", he meant and Charlie nodded in reply. 

"I'm sorry that I couldn't be there with you today", he offered then, sitting down on the chair that Keith had occupied before Charlie's arrival. 

"It's okay...Keith was with me...", Mick said, not facing Charlie but keeping his eyes fixed on Mona instead, who was staring back at him almost in wonder out of her huge hazel eyes. It made a smile tug at his lips and he bend down a bit to press a soft kiss to her brow. 

"I thought you wanted nothing to do with him anymore when at the hospital", Charlie started all over again and Mick almost sighed. 

"He got clean", he simply said, the matter done for him. 

"You know that junkies tend to relapse", Charlie remembered him in a warning tone that couldn't make it more obvious that he was a school teacher. 

"He's really making an effort", Mick argued and Charlie just shrugged. 

"If you say so…"

"He's a good bloke", he added because he was completely persuaded by it and couldn't comprehend why Charlie would not simply take his word for it. 

"Alright", Charlie eventually agreed and Mick wondered whether he just did, so they'd finally stop this argument. "How's Mona?", he added instead. 

"Doing just fine, as you see", Mick let him know, referring to his baby girl in his arms. 

"She's growing a little every time I don't see her", Charlie mentioned, smiling widely at them.

"She's perfect", Mick agreed, then turning his attention back to Mona, cooing at her lovingly. 

"How have you been holding up today?", Charlie then wanted to know after a silent moment where he'd been observing Mick and his little daughter. 

Mick only shrugged. What was he supposed to say? That he could barely get out of bed, that without Mona there would be no reason to, that he'd broken down in tears every other minute, had ended up sobbing in Keith's arms?

"Tell me about school, will you?", he replied instead, figuring some distraction might be best for now. Charlie threw him a glance that told him he was about to disagree with him, but eventually he just shifted his position on the chair before diving right in to what had been happening at school lately. 

A whole day passed, with Mick mainly being miserable all by himself, until he heard from Keith again the day after. Obviously, he could have simply called him, to tell him he wasn't doing too well, but he was glad that he managed to get out of bed at all to prepare food for Mona. Anything apart from that had been a challenge too huge to face. And it made him feel more horrible than he already did, knowing that if it wasn't for Mona, he'd be rendered completely useless, overpowered by his own helplessness, hopeless in the wake of losing Tessa. 

Mick was in the kitchen, when the phone rang, making a bottle for his baby daughter since she had started to get a little grumpy, apparently being hungry. Cursing the crutches yet another time, he hobbled into the floor to take the call, hopefully before Mona would become distraught by the ongoing ringing. When he finally reached the phone, it had been ringing for a while and he could hear Mona being fretful in the other room. For a second, he thought about picking up and just putting the receiver back down again without taking the call. 

"Hi", he answered once he'd decided otherwise, leaning against the wall next to the phone in order to take some weight off his injured leg. His curiosity about whom was calling had gotten the better of him, also whoever was on the other end of the line might try again later if he didn't pick up now. 

"Hi. It's Keith", the other's voice was greeting him and surprisingly Mick was glad to hear of him, even though he knew he should hang up again to calm down Mona. 

"I just wanted to ask how you're doing", Keith meant on the other end of the line. 

"Same old…", Mick just muttered because he wasn't eager to go into any details right now. Not on the phone while his leg started hurting and Mona needed her bottle. 

"Sorry I couldn't call yesterday, I had an appointment with my doctor and some stuff to handle for Bill…", Keith explained, sounding apologetical. 

"It's okay. I've been...I got along", Mick assured him even though he had only kept it together temporarily. Around noon, he'd pushed over some milk in the kitchen, it spilling all over the floor. The only way for him to at least attempt cleaning it up, was to throw some old rags over it to soak up the mess. Now the dirty rags still lay scattered on the kitchen floor, since obviously Mick had trouble bending down and picking them up. 

"You need anything?", Keith wanted to know and Mick shook his head automatically before realising that he couldn't see him. Of course, he could ask Keith to come over, but he couldn't quite tell whether he was in the mood for being around someone else. Talking to him on the phone was a welcome distraction but Mick wasn't sure whether he could handle his actual company at the moment. 

"I'm good for now…", he meant, although he couldn't even explain to himself whether he was stating the truth or not. 

He wasn't doing particularly bad this very moment, but he wasn't feeling too great either. These days, his mood would change within a matter of moments. Sometimes, especially when interacting with Mona, he almost felt serene, thankful that his baby girl was healthy and steadily growing. Other times, he was overcome by grief and melancholy, thinking about all the wonderful times he spent with Tessa, knowing that he could never have them back, he'd never get her back. Most of the time, though, there was an endless emptiness inside of him, threatening to make him become apathetic, rendering his mind incapable of actually making decisions. Then he just lay in his bed for hours, only disrupted when Mona needed his attention. 

"How's Mona?", Keith asked next and solely the mention of his daughter's name possessed the power to rip him out of the lethargy that had overcome him again. 

"She's a little restless today...actually she's crying a bit right now, I just wanted to give her a bottle…", Mick explained, already cursing the fact that he'd have to walk back to the kitchen first to actually fetch the bottle. 

"Are you getting along?", Keith inquired once more and Mick wasn't sure whether he heard concern in his voice. 

"I should be feeding her now", he pointed out instead of replying. Somehow he'd get along. Even if it wasn't too well.

"Sure, of course", Keith simply returned in understanding. 

"Thanks for checking in, Keith", Mick told him, honestly glad about his compassion, surprised yet again about the fact that Keith truly seemed to care. 

"Call me if you need anything", he mentioned and Mick nodded slightly, yet again forgetting that Keith couldn't see his reaction, before he remembered something. 

"Actually…", Mick started, not quite sure whether he truly wanted to share these thoughts with Keith. 

He'd been spending a lot of time musing about this the prior day while he'd tried to calm down Mona from crying. The only way for him to handle her was to soothingly rock her in his arms, softly whispering to her, maybe sing her a little something. But he wondered if it might help either, to be able to actually get up, carry her around. And not just sit around in the same spot for hours because he couldn't move properly.

"Hmm?", Keith hummed, prompting him to go on. 

"It's stupid…", he placated himself since he knew perfectly well that his leg needed to fully heal first before he even should be considering things like these. 

"What?", Keith encouraged him to spill what he wanted to say. 

"I've just been thinking that...it would be nice to...you know, be able to carry her around to calm her. Or put her in her stroller and go for a walk...she's never really been outside...", he drifted off, getting crestfallen as he properly registered his own words. These were the simplest, most basic things he should be doing, but he couldn't even pick up the dirty towels from his kitchen floor. If he wasn't feeling so miserable about himself, he would be angry instead. And he honestly couldn't tell which of these sentiments directed against himself was kinder. Probably none, but he couldn't help feeling utterly useless for the umpteenth time.

"You can do that", Keith simply gave back, startling Mick for a moment. He sounded so incredibly certain and reassuring that it nearly confused Mick. 

"Not with my leg, I can't...", he disagreed and almost let out a sigh in frustration, wondering whether Keith had completely forgotten about the reason why Mick was bound to stay at his flat all day long. 

"Well...you want me to come over and change that?", came Keith's answer, almost challenging but clearly encouraging. Mick couldn't pinpoint what exactly it was about the way Keith had posed his question, however it made him feel something he hadn't felt in what seemed like ages. He actually was getting a little excited.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys :)  
I think it was a good idea trying to write shorter chapters because like this it doesn't feel so endless until I finally have some result and it's less discouraging. This obviously is one of the longest stories I have ever written, since it's slow-burn, so it's sometimes tough to stay focused. But I want to and will finish this one because it means a lot to me and I already have so many ideas for the upcoming chapters.  
Thanks for reading, and enjoy!

Not even an hour after they'd hung up the phone, the doorbell rang, announcing Keith's arrival. As Mick opened up for him, he was greeted with a cheeky smile. 

"We gotta go outside for a bit. It'll also be good for Mona to get some fresh air. It's so nice out today", he announced without further ado while he kept smiling at Mick encouragingly. 

Seeing him like that, all eager and excited, Mick couldn't deny that this cheerfulness Keith was eradiating wasn't at least a little bit infecting. As he moved out of the way to let him step inside, he started to look forward to the prospect of finally getting out of his flat again. He hadn't been outside in weeks after all, except from when he left the hospital and went home. Actually it wasn't surprising in the slightest that he was feeling more depressed with every passing day. Everything he did was being locked up inside with nothing new to take his mind off from revolving about how badly he was missing Tessa. There was not much to do, not much he could take care of anyway, except for more or less caring for Mona as good as he was able to. Maybe he actually needed Keith right now, needed him to tell him to get up for once and go outside, because he wouldn't, couldn't do it by himself. 

"I'm not sure if I can manage walking downstairs...I never tried", Mick meant, still somewhat undecided and also a little insecure. Surely it wouldn't be easy to walk downstairs with his crutches. But getting out of this little bubble he'd been hiding in for the past days obviously required him to make an effort, stepping out of his comfort zone. Probably he also needed Keith to drag him out of there, since it clearly was too much to handle for Mick. 

"It's alright, we can try now", Keith reassured him as they both went into Mick's bedroom to pick up Mona who was sucking on her dummy, observing them curiously. With Keith being this optimistic, it was hard to still keep doubting and Mick started to actually look forward to finally leaving his flat. 

"Can you get the baby carrier for me, please? It's over there", Mick pointed it out to Keith who went to fetch it from the top of a drawer. "I figured it might be easiest like that, if you could just carry her around?", he added while he sat down for a moment in order to lift up Mona from her baby crib to hold her in his arms, pressing a little kiss to her brow. 

"I mean, I could take her stroller and carry it downstairs first, then come back to get the two of you…", Keith offered with a shrug as his expression softened at the sight of Mick interacting with his baby. 

"Yeah, I guess", Mick mused and Keith only nodded in reply. "We put it in the nursery", he meant and as Keith offered to get it and bring it downstairs, Mick stayed back, softly whispering to Mona, letting her know that they'd be going outside for a walk. 

"You ready?", Keith asked once he came back upstairs, looking at him expectantly. Mick simply nodded, handing him Mona, while he grabbed his crutches, actually feeling all antsy to finally go outside again. 

With Mona securely pressed to his chest, Keith descended the stairs at Mick's side, just as slowly as he did, impeded by the crutches. Moving downstairs took Mick forever, it was hard work focusing on where to step and how to place the crutches in order to not slip. 

"Don't be scared of falling. I wouldn't let you", Keith assured him as he'd eventually managed to reach the first landing. There were still two floors ahead of them and Mick was simultaneously too touched and too focused to come up with anything to tell Keith about the impact his simple words had on him. But as he further descended the stairs, his step was steadier and he felt a bit more at ease. 

Finally stepping outside of the house after such a long time spent inside was completely overwhelming. Mick had almost forgotten that it was summer time, it was a lovely, warm day, with birds chirping in nearby trees and people sitting outside, enjoying the sun. The contrast to the isolation within his four walls couldn't have been any more stark. While Keith had already laid Mona down into the stroller, cooing to her that everything was alright, Mick still was just standing there, almost dumbstruck. 

"Mick? Are you okay?", Keith's concerned voice and the careful touch of his hand on Mick's arm eventually made him snap out of the rigour he momentarily had fallen into. 

"I...I just…", he stammered, not sure what to say. He'd slipped back into one of these dark spaces once more that made the bright sunlight around them appear almost cynical. It was an amazingly beautiful day, as Keith had mentioned before. The sky was a deep blue, there wasn't a single cloud to see and the sun felt warm and agreeable on his face. Everything appeared so amazing, but the beautiful weather painted a harsh contrast to what was going on inside of his mind. Because all he could think of in that moment wasn't how great it was feeling to be outside, enjoying the nice weather on a day like this. The only thing on his mind was the thought of Tessa never getting to experience another one of these days. 

"It's alright. If your leg is hurting we could just...sit down on that wall over there for a while…", he suggested, pointing across the street to a low brickstone wall. 

"No, it's okay. I can walk. There's a park a bit down the street…" 

After a few hundred metres or so, Mick started getting quite exhausted. Walking such a long way on crutches after not really moving at all in weeks cost him incredible effort. At one point, as they had almost reached the park, he had to pause, his legs starting to feel somewhat wobbly. 

"I don't think I can go on…", he muttered, breathing heavily, focusing on his grip on the crutches in order to not stumble and fall. 

"Can you make it a little further, just to that bench over there? Then we can take a break", Keith proposed. He'd been pushing Mona's stroller but came to a halt next to him, mustering him, not without concern. Mick took a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself. 

"But slowly", he eventually nodded in agreement, sighing, before he continued his troublesome way, strenuously putting one foot in front of the other with the help of his crutches.

"We're almost there", Keith informed him a moment later, encouraging him to take the last few metres, until Mick could finally sink down on the bench in the park, letting out an exhausted sigh, utterly worn out and jaded. His legs felt all weak, the injured one was stinging, and his arm muscles were burning from having to carry so much of his weight when leaning on the crutches. 

"You made it", Keith reminded him, giving him an uplifting little smile, as he was picking up Mona out of the stroller to sit down with her next to Mick. 

"I don't know how to make it back, though…", Mick doubted himself, even despite Keith's encouragement. But at the same time he was clearly aware that without Keith, without his reassurement and persistence, he wouldn't be here right now. He'd still be curled up in his bed, pitying himself. At least, he'd finally managed to leave the house again. 

"Are you in pain?", Keith inquired, mustering him carefully as he was gently rocking Mona in his arms. 

"A bit…", Mick admitted, not meeting Keith's eyes, but keeping his gaze on his baby daughter, who'd closed her eyes and was sucking on her dummy. She looked completely endearing and this sight made Mick's heart swell in his chest in adoration. 

"Maybe it was too much all at once…I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't have suggested this", Keith gave back almost ruefully, but Mick shook his head in denial. 

"No, it's okay...I just need to sit down for a while", Mick told him, stretching out his injured leg. "I'm glad you did...it's nice to be out here."

"Do you want to hold Mona?", Keith then offered, and Mick wordlessly reached out his arms to pick her up and cradle her against his chest. 

For a while, they kept sitting in companionable silence, observing the various passers-by. The day was amazingly beautiful and the bright weather obviously was attracting people to go outside. Kids were playing ball, riding around on bikes, there were joggers, people walking their dogs, others just lying on the grass, sunbathing, reading a book. 

As Mick's view was drifting around, he noticed that Keith was launching on the bank almost lazily. An arm draped over the backrest, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, his eyes closed, face turned towards the sun and there was a content little smile plastered on his lips. For a few moments, Mick observed him absent-mindedly, figuring that apparently Keith was pretty much enjoying himself. He ended up musing whether he'd find ease like this again one day for himself, and kept wondering about Keith's mindset. About the fact that it had taken him almost dying to turn his life around, that he'd been at his lowest, at literal rock-bottom, before he managed to get back up again, trying to get better, live his life differently. And that he actually seemed to manage so far. It was admirable to say the least. 

"Keith?", Mick meant eventually, wanting to put his thoughts into words somehow. 

"Hmm?" 

"I just...thanks", was what he got out in the end, although it wasn't at all what he had wanted to say. He wanted to tell him that he was incredibly grateful for his help. Wanted Keith to know that he admired his determination and his will to change for the better. That he was indescribably glad to have met him because he didn't know what to do without him. That without him, he couldn't handle even the smallest of things right now. And that apart from Mona, who was his everything, Keith was the sole person at the moment, who could at least attempt to cheer him up. Even if just a little, by suggestions like the one to finally get out of the flat that had become his involuntary prison, not only caging him physically but mentally as well. 

"What for?", Keith gave back as if he was utterly clueless, turning around to him. 

"Everything", Mick replied, wishing he could express himself more accurately, but it was hard finding the proper words. "I don't think I could manage without you...I wouldn't be right here without you, but home in bed…so...thanks...", he added in a low voice, averting his gaze down towards Mona in order to not have to directly face Keith. Talking about how he was feeling was tough and made him get a bit awkward, since he wasn't used to it, but he still wanted Keith to know. 

"Thanks...I'm just glad to help in some way", Keith sheepishly mumbled in return. "It helps me too, you know. Knowing that...makes me feel needed. Not like a total waste of space…", he admitted then, abashedly. There was none of his previous nonchalance and ease left in his posture anymore, but he'd almost slumped down, nestling around on a hole at the hem of his t-shirt. 

"You're anything but", Mick assured him, feeling that Keith was being too harsh on himself for no apparent reason. Then again, he literally had no clue what was going on in his head, didn't know what battles Keith still might be fighting. 

"Thanks", Keith whispered. As he lifted his eyes to meet Mick's, a little smile crept onto his face and Mick couldn't help himself but mirror it. Sitting there, on a park bench, holding his beautiful baby girl, looking at Keith who was returning his gaze, Mick finally comprehended. Odd as it seemed, apparently something had brought them together in the darkest hours of their lives. And only now did Mick realise that maybe Keith needed him just as much as he himself needed Keith. 

"How do you manage?", Mick asked after some silent moments passed between them. 

"What do you mean?", Keith frowned, apparently not sure what Mick was onto. 

"You seemed so content just now…", he shrugged, biting his bottom lip as he started musing once more. 

"Well...I'm glad to still be around. Isn't that a reason to be happy?", Keith returned, it sounded rhetorical and there was nothing Mick could oppose.

"I guess…", he nodded slightly in reply before silence fell over them again. It wasn't all awkward talking to Keith about things like these. Not as awkward as talking to a shrink had felt to Mick. Nevertheless sharing his thoughts and feelings like this was something that didn't come too easily for him. The only reason he did was that he actually noticed that it made him feel a little less depressed if he could talk about things instead of bottling them up. 

"How are you holding up?" Keith eventually disrupted their hush. 

"I'm not...just for Mona..", Mick admitted, watching his sweet baby girl nuzzling closer against his chest in her sleep. She was more than adorable. 

"Tell me if I can do something, anything…", Keith mentioned completely naturally and Mick knew there weren't enough words to express his gratitude in any proper way. 

"You're doing so much already and I cannot tell you how much I appreciate you...but still, none of it will bring her back to me…", Mick replied, sighing in defeat as this realisation hit him yet again with a force that would have knocked him to his knees had he been standing. 

Keith didn't reply for a while, it seemed like he couldn't think of yet more comforting words to offer anymore, like he'd used all of them up already. Or like there was nothing he could say anyway that would help Mick feeling better. Yet, he ended up surprising him, making another one of his suggestions that appeared small and inconsiderable but actually was consoling and lifting Mick's spirits. 

"Do you want me to cook some lunch when we get back to your place? Or do you want us to cook something together?", Keith eventually came up with and even though Mick didn't feel particularly hungry right then, he still immensely appreciated Keith's way of trying to spend him some comfort, as small as it might seem.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
I'm so happy and excited that I finally could continue this story! It means so so much to me and even if it's pretty sad at parts, I still hope that you'll enjoy reading it as much as I love writing it :)

"Come on, Mr. Jagger, just a couple more times!", the physiotherapist encouraged him as Mick tried to do the leg muscle exercise she had shown him before. 

A few days ago, he finally had gotten rid of the cast, but in order to be able to properly walk again without crutches, he first needed to train his muscles. After barely having used his injured leg for weeks, obviously, this was easier said than done. Every single one of these exercises the physiotherapist had explained to him, turned out to be a huge challenge for him and he ended up struggling, almost toppling over. Completely exhausted, every single one of his muscles aching, Mick eventually dropped down onto the floor to get some rest.

"I can't…", he sighed, trying to catch a breath, as he massaged his stinging thigh. Every single ordinary movement had cost him enormous effort. 

"Do you need a break?", the physiotherapist asked and Mick only gave her a short nod in reply as he tried not to focus on how groggy he was from doing some simple training. "Do you want me to fetch you some water?", she added, and again, Mick could only nod, before the physiotherapist left to get him a refreshment. 

"You wanna hold Mona for a moment?", Keith suggested from where he was sitting. He had taken place on a chair a few feet away, with Mona on his lap, both watching while Mick tried his best in order to get rid of his crutches as fast as possible. 

"Sure", Mick meant, ready to prop himself up and somehow get onto his feet with the help of just one crutch. But Keith already came over to where he was sitting, sinking down onto the floor next to him. 

"You're doing well, Mick", he quietly offered, giving him an encouraging smile as he handed him Mona and despite being quite jaded, Mick managed a little smile in return. 

The only reason he was putting himself through all of this trouble to finally be able to walk again, was Mona. Without her, he didn't really feel the need to do anything at all. It was all just for her. But the sole reason for him being there, attempting to get fit again, was Keith. Without him, Mick probably couldn't even have left the house, let alone made his way to the doctor, or physiotherapy. He'd been nothing but supportive all the way, ever since he first made Mick leave his flat again two weeks prior. Even before that, when he first started helping him out at home and with Mona. His baby girl was giving Mick a purpose to keep going, to not simply give up and get overwhelmed by grief and self-pity. And Keith gave him the means and support he desperately needed to actually pull through with it. 

"You think so, too, baby girl?", Mick mumbled towards Mona, softly kissing her brow which made Keith chuckle lightly.

"She's really proud of her dad", he said, gently pressing Mick's shoulder. 

"Thanks", Mick whispered. "For coming here with me." He honestly was more grateful to Keith than bare words would ever be able to express, but he wanted him to know at least. 

"Don't mention it", Keith gave back, almost sounding coy, but Mick meant it. He couldn't be doing any of this without him. And if it only was for the reason that someone needed to look after Mona. 

"Do you want to continue with some more exercises?", the physiotherapist asked, once she stepped back into the room with a glass of water. 

"A couple more won't hurt, right?", Mick said, feeling at least somewhat re-energised after recalling why he was putting himself through this. 

Keith didn't accompany him to physiotherapy only that first time, but also kept going with him for his next couple of appointments. There wasn't much these days that Keith didn't help him with, even though day by day, Mick started making noticeable progress, getting more agile and independent again. Yet, Keith was dropping by almost every day, not because Mick desperately needed him to, but because he had realised that he actually enjoyed his company and liked having him around. Sometimes, knowing that he wasn't all alone with just his sleeping baby, was enough to take Mick's mind off of his dark thoughts, when they threatened to overwhelm and depress him once again. 

They didn't even have to talk much, often they would simply be sitting in companionable silence, maybe listen to some of Mick's records, or some Keith would bring along. Other times, he would show up with his acoustic guitar, sitting down cross-legged on the foot end of Mick's bed, playing beautiful little melodies for what seemed like hours, sometimes softly singing along, while Mick was laying there with Mona, just listening, enjoying the sound of Keith's singing voice. On good days, they'd cook something, while listening to their favourite records, on better days even, Mick would grab his own acoustic guitar and they'd play together. Then, they'd fall into their very own unique rhythm, the music engulfing them like a bubble, shielding them from whatever was going on outside of it. These little moments of near contentment almost made him forget about his sadness and his misery. Though, the problem with grieving about Tessa was that grief was always hitting him in waves. Some gentle like the ripples forming at a lake, coming in the form of long gone memories. Others, however, were like the rough sea on a stormy winter day, overpowering, rendering him incapable to move and barely able to breathe. 

When he got caught up too much in his pain and sorrow, sometimes, he would just lie there and stare into nothingness, or he'd bawl his eyes out until he felt like there were no more tears left to be shed. On other occasions, he would get stubborn and angry, yelling at Keith to leave him be, leave him alone. There were some situations where, unintentionally, he had jabbed some mean remarks at Keith, solely for being the only one around to throw them at. Afterwards, when he could properly breathe and think more clearly again, he would always deeply regret it. Obviously, none of this was Keith's fault and Mick knew that he shouldn't be screaming and yelling at him. But sometimes, he simply couldn't hold back and avoid it because all he felt was pain and he needed an outlet.

"I'm really sorry…", he offered his apology after yet another influx of hopeless anger and unjust accusations directed at the one person who probably deserved them the least. 

Mick was painfully aware that he was behaving awful towards Keith at times and it went beyond his imagination why he still would be hanging around, still would stay this calm and patient with him. Most of the time, he would simply leave the room, either with or without Mona, depending on what Mick wanted and needed. Once Mick could assemble his broken pieces back together, when he managed to calm down and was ready to face Keith, mostly he'd find him in the living room, reading a book or paper, or listening to music. Then he would always feel awfully bad, just like right then, after another breakdown he had that evening while preparing dinner. 

Everything had gone quite alright that day, at least until it didn't. Keith had stopped by in the afternoon to come to physiotherapy with him. When getting back home, he had prepared a bottle for Mona while Mick was taking a shower. And after shortly calling his mum, letting her know that things were going okay at the moment, Mick had suggested cooking dinner together. Only that they didn't even manage to put the casserole into the oven because he hadn't been able to stop thinking about that time when he had last cooked the same meal with Tessa. The bare reminiscence of this moment had been enough to make him shake so badly that he'd almost cut his finger and then broke down in tears. After screaming at Keith to leave him be while he only wanted to make sure Mick was alright, he'd locked himself into his bedroom with Mona, hot tears running down his cheeks. Then, it had taken him a while to pull himself back together and be able to pick himself back up.

"It's okay…", Keith played it down as if it was nothing. Mick found him in the kitchen this time where he had finished cooking dinner.

"No, it's not…I shouldn't be saying these things to you. And I cannot even stand myself right now. How do you?", Mick said, once more baffled by Keith's resilience, feeling pretty crappy for being this rude, when all Keith wanted to do was help him. 

"I've had worse...I guess, you grow a thick skin. And I know you don't actually mean it...I'm sorry I can't really help you there...", Keith returned all but naturally, apparently he hadn't taken any offense. "Are you hungry?", he added, nodding towards the kitchen table and Mick hummed in agreement. 

"It's not your fault...I just...it hurts so bad sometimes, missing her...I feel like I'm choking…", he managed to explain once they sat down and Keith had filled both of their plates. Mick wasn't facing him but staring at the food in front of him. Actually he didn't feel like eating at all but he couldn't remember the last time he had something between his teeth. Maybe it had been for breakfast.

"Would it be better if I left?", Keith carefully offered. 

"Now?", Mick frowned, because Keith hadn't even touched his dinner yet. He didn't want him to leave, not like that, not before at least having some of the food he had made.

"I meant when you're...feeling like that, and getting angry...do you want me to just leave you then?", he clarified, sounding almost coy as if he was trying by all means not to offend Mick. 

"I like you being here...when I...when it starts getting worse again...it's nice knowing you're around once it gets better. Taking care of Mona if it needs to be…", Mick honestly admitted, daring to lift his gaze to meet Keith's. For a moment they kept their eyes locked on each other's, sharing something like quiet understanding. 

"It's tough deciding what to do, you know...I didn't just want to leave if you needed help", Keith eventually disrupted their silence. 

"I'm sorry about that...I guess I shouldn't be surprised if you left and didn't want to come back...", Mick figured, taking his fork, starting to poke around on his plate. 

"Why would I do that?", Keith asked, sounding a little dumbfounded, as he picked up his fork as well. 

"Why wouldn't you?", Mick gave back with a frown. 

"You know...you know that I need this. To be occupied, keep my mind off stuff...helping you out helps me to not just feel useless and like a burden for everyone around me...", Keith reminded him of what he'd made clear before. Mick did remember, of course, but only now that Keith pointed it out once more did he actually comprehend him. 

"Yeah...I know…", he mumbled. "I uh...I need this too, you know. I mean, you being around. Helps me to…", Mick went on, stopping himself because he didn't know how to put into words what it meant to him having Keith there with him in moments like these. When he felt like he was completely losing it, losing his grip on reality because everything seemed utterly surreal. Even after almost three months since waking up from the coma, finding out that Tessa was gone, in some situations he still couldn't understand. It was simply too much for his mind to process. Some days, he'd wake up, thinking Tessa was in the bathroom already, or making breakfast. Just to sit up and rub his tired eyes, while it started dawning on him that she'd never come back. And he wondered almost daily whether he'd ever fully comprehend, or always stay in this unreal state. But Keith being there with him a lot of the time provided a distraction he desperately needed, and which was grounding him. 

"It's helping...you're helping, a lot", he settled for, once again feeling the need to express his gratitude and to point out that even if Keith thought he couldn't help much, he still did, immensely so. And as he looked over at Keith almost sheepishly, he gave him a little, uplifting smile. 

"How are you feeling?", Keith wanted to know after they'd each finally taken some bites of their meal.

"Exhausted…", Mick sighed, running a hand through his hair, messing it up. 

"If you need sleep, I'll go back to Bill's", Keith offered, watching him carefully.

"Let's check on Mona before you leave?", he gave back, thinking of his sleeping baby back in the bedroom. He'd lain in bed earlier, sobbing, his little daughter pressed closely to his chest, her being the sole reason for him to eventually calm down. Once his tears had dried, he stayed there, securely holding Mona in his arms, pressing small kisses to her tiny head, waiting until she fell asleep. 

"Of course", Keith meant, smiling contently. "Does she need another bottle?"

"She's sleeping...I guess she's fine for now", Mick replied and Keith only hummed in agreement. Actually, he didn't need any help with Mona at the moment. But he knew how much Keith enjoyed being there when they were tucking her in, saying goodnight. 

This evening, like many before, they found themselves in Mick's bedroom after finishing their dinner, observing the sleeping baby for a while. This moment was peaceful, tranquil, it almost felt like time was freezing and Mick became all calm and serene. Like nothing outside these four walls still mattered, simply didn't exist. The world could stop turning right then and he wouldn't even care. There was only Keith and him standing side by side, watching over Mona as she lay in her crib sound asleep. 

Eventually, he leaned down to kiss his little girl's brow. "Sleep well, beautiful girl", he softly whispered, before sitting down on his bed, watching as Keith carefully ran a hand over Mona's head. Emotions were flooding his chest at this sight, but now it wasn't a crashing sadness or overwhelming emptiness building up inside him. Instead, he felt deeply content with adoration. For his sweet baby girl and for the way Keith had treated her since the first time they met. Like she was the most precious thing in the world to him, just as she was for Mick. 

"Keith?", Mick quietly asked once he had straightened back up and was about to leave.

"Hmm?", he made, stopping as he turned around on his way out of Mick's darkened bedroom. 

"If you...when you're here and...if it should get too late...I want you to know you can always just crash on the couch", Mick offered in a whisper. 

"Thanks", Keith mumbled. 

"Of course. You're always welcome here, Keith", he said in a soft voice, making Keith smile at him lightly.

"Are you good for now?", he wanted to know. 

"I'll be okay", Mick meant. "Will you come by tomorrow?"

"Sure...I gotta see my therapist. But after?", Keith quietly explained.

"Okay, then...see you tomorrow", Mick said, a tiny smile tugging at his lips. 

"Goodnight, Mick", Keith gave back, lifting his hand for a little wave, before turning around to leave.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so so so much to everybody for reading, liking, and commenting this story. I apprecciate all of you guys so much and you have no idea how much your support helps me continuing to write this story, but also finding ideas for yet more stories. Seriously, I am so inspired, I basically have new ideas for yet more AUs every few days :D so thanks for helping me stay creative :)

"So, how are you doing this week?", his therapist asked him, once Keith had settled down in the white leather chair opposite of his doctor. 

"Quite alright, I guess", he shrugged because he didn't feel too bad, except for the fact that he was pretty groggy from not getting enough sleep lately. This was something he might have to address to his therapist as well, considering that some nights he would roam the streets for hours, hoping to tire himself out, but with not much avail. 

"Yeah?", Chris prompted him to go on. 

"I...I didn't have to think too much about scoring again lately...just sometimes", Keith started, focusing on the upsides. 

"That's great, did you do your homework?"

Chris had handed him a small notebook, telling him to write down the situations in which craving drugs overcame him again and also what helped him, or was distracting him from it. Keith had brought it with himself, nestling around on the edges while he was skipping to the page where he had noted things down. 

"Uh...it was just a few times...three, four times since we talked last, I guess...", he skimmed over his own handwriting, trying to remember the moments which had been particularly hard. 

"When did you feel the need to?", his therapist wanted to know. 

"While lying awake at night, mostly...I still have some trouble falling asleep…then I start thinking that if I took this or shot up that...I'd be out for a while, just...oblivion, you know", Keith explained, starting to feel somewhat uncomfortable admitting this. Like he was admitting defeat, even though he hadn't given in to the yearning yet. 

"Are you restless then, your body, your mind?"

"Both...sometimes I get up and go for a walk...other times I try reading til my eyes get too tired to focus", he sighed, recalling all the hours spent awake during the past nights. 

"Does that distract you?", Chris dug deeper. 

"Somewhat…"

"And during the day?", he wanted to know. 

"I...I've been spending a lot of time with Mick and Mona this past week...when I'm with them, I never think about drugs", Keith told him what had occurred to him while taking notes of the moments where his craving was the worst. 

"How are things with Mick?", the therapist asked. 

"He's finally able to walk without crutches again. But I'm still helping him out...or just stay over", he mentioned, glad he didn't have to talk more about drugs for the moment.

"You're hanging out together?"

"Yeah...we just...listen to music, or talk, or play guitar...we go for walks to the park with Mona, too. Sometimes we cook together...", Keith explained. 

"You're spending a lot of time with him", Chris assessed. 

"Makes me feel better...I like staying with Mick...helping him with Mona", Keith replied truthfully even though it hadn't been a question.

"You seem happier." Another observation. 

"I guess I am...things are going well, mostly", he shrugged.

"What do you mean?"

"I love hanging out with Mick...and he's doing better too, I guess...at least somewhat. Mona's totally adorable, and growing so much. But sometimes Mick gets...really depressed, though…", Keith clarified, thinking back of the few times where Mick had broken down, yelling at Keith to leave him be. 

"Does this bother you?", Chris inquired. 

"I'm worried for him…", Keith admitted. 

"Is he getting help?"

"He told me his doctor said that he needs to see a therapist if he wants to be able to go back to school and teach…", he remembered Mick telling him about it a few days prior after he went to a doctor's appointment. 

"So, he's seeing someone?"

"I guess he will", he shrugged once more because Mick hadn't really mentioned anything else about it. 

"When will you next see Mick?", his therapist went on asking. 

"After we're done here...he asked me to drop by", Keith told him, wishing his therapy session was over already. In his own opinion, he was mostly doing quite alright at the moment, except for not getting enough sleep. But the doctors at the rehab facility had already warned him about this side effect. Probably, he should ask Chris for some sleeping pills. But before he could even start expressing his ideas, the therapist continued his game of asks and answers. 

"That's why you brought your guitar?"

"Yeah...we're jamming together sometimes. Or I'm playing some of my songs to him and Mona…", Keith meant, pushing back the thoughts of sleeping pills, as a little smile was crossing his face because he actually was looking forward to playing guitar with Mick. 

"You're enjoying this", once more, it wasn't a question, rather an observation. 

"Quite a lot, yeah...helps me not to think about drugs. I'm just there with them...you know...playing music", Keith explained with a nod, as if to underline his statement. 

"How often have you been at Mick's this past week?"

"Uh...I've seen him every day. Why?", he asked back, not really seeing why this was a relevant question. 

"Look, Keith. I'm very glad about the progress you're making. And that you seem to have found some measures of how to keep yourself distracted enough to not think about scoring again all the time, or to keep yourself from actually doing it", Chris started explaining. From the tone of his voice, Keith could already guess that there was another side of the coin as well. 

"But?", he prompted. 

"You're a recovering addict and I fear that you might be prone to fall back into old habits", the therapist let him know but Keith didn't comprehend what he meant by that. After all, he was doing everything he could not to go back to taking drugs.

"I don't understand?", he frowned, trying to figure out what Chris was on about. 

"You're substituting drugs for all your time spent with Mick, getting attached to him, dependant of him", he explained and Keith furrowed his brow in question. 

"What are you saying?"

"That you're in a fragile state...and Mick even more so, considering the things you've told me about him", the therapist went on, but he still didn't understand why he was telling him all of this. 

"And?", he inquired. 

"You should consider seeing him less frequently", Chris concluded. 

"What?", Keith returned, dumbfounded. This wasn't at all what he'd expected to hear. Not after literally informing his therapist of how much he enjoyed Mick's company and that it helped him a lot. 

"But he needs me", he added, sounding bummed. _But I need him_, was what he actually wanted to say, though he stopped himself, because he didn't want to seem pathetic. "I'm...I'm doing better because of this. Mick and Mona are the only reason why I'm doing better", he got out eventually, trying to make things clear. 

"I know...and I don't even doubt this. But it's not advisable for you to involve all of your time and energy with Mick. Especially not when he needs help that you're not able to give him", Chris reminded him. And even though Keith was aware that he could never help like a doctor, he knew that he still could do something. Mick had told him so himself. 

"We just talked about this the other day…", Keith mentioned, thinking of his conversation with Mick the prior night. 

"You did?"

"He's helping me and I'm helping him...that's how it is. That's why I can't just stop seeing him", he pointed out. 

"You don't need to stop hanging out with him. Just maybe limit your visits. But I only wanted to make you aware of this. It's not like I can tell you what to do, Keith. You have to decide what's best for you", Chris mentioned and Keith hated that he made it sound as if it actually was his own decision, when the only reason they were even addressing this was because his therapist had come up with it. 

"Have you been thinking about trying to get a job again?", Chris wanted to know after a moment where Keith didn't find anything else to reply with. At least nothing that wouldn't make him come across as either rude or immature. 

"Not really…", he returned with a sigh because he wasn't really in the mood to talk about this topic at the moment. 

"Why not?"

"I wanna play music...I don't know how to do this in a way that'll allow me to make a living out of it. I don't just wanna work at Heathrow again, or as a bartender or something…", he made clear because he definitely was over this. He couldn't go right back to some meaningless, dull job that would make him feel utterly useless and disappointed and make him start taking drugs all over again. 

"So...I've got an idea. Here's what I want you to do: until the next time we're seeing each other, I want you to think of jobs where you could play music, or work with instruments. You don't need to form a band and become a rock star. There are other options, I want you to think about it", Chris reminded him, but it only made Keith sigh once more. 

"I don't know...I already tried stuff. Playing in the streets, asking to play in pubs...look how that worked out. It got me here…", he meant, sounding defeated. 

"What do you mean?"

"We didn't have any success...we just ended up taking drugs…", Keith reminded him. 

"That's why I want you to think about other options for you", Chris encouraged him, but Keith didn't want to hear it. 

"There aren't any…"

"Did you think about it already?"

"No, I just know", he said, almost stubbornly. 

"Just give it a try, alright?"

"Fine…", Keith sighed because he knew he wouldn't get off the hook that easily.

"Will you also consider meeting Mick a little less often?"

"Maybe", he shrugged but wasn't so sure about it. 

"Are you okay?", Mick sheepishly asked him as they were hanging out in his living room once Keith had stopped by after his therapy session.

Mick was sitting on the carpet with Mona, playing around with some stuffed animals and a small ball, making the little one coo with amazement. Keith was sitting on the floor as well, with his back leaned against the couch, guitar on his lap. He'd been mindlessly plucking around on it for the past half an hour or so, not paying much attention to anything else, not even Mona being outright adorable, smiling widely while grabbing for her toys. 

"I'm just thinking…", he muttered, his fingers still gliding over the strings without actually caring which tunes he was playing. It were some of few words he had lost since he arrived at Mick's place. 

"You wanna talk about it?", Mick offered and made Keith sigh. He didn't, but he knew that he had to. Because in some way, it concerned Mick as well. 

"Earlier I went to see my therapist…", he started because he didn't quite know where else to begin. 

"Yeah you mentioned that. What happened?", Mick wanted to know as he picked up Mona, sitting her down on his lap as she tried chewing on the ear of her stuffed toy bunny. 

"He wants me to see you less and get a job instead...", Keith simply dropped the info on him because he wasn't in the mood to talk everything through in detail once more. 

"Oh…", Mick made and if Keith wasn't mistaken, he didn't sound surprised, but rather disappointed. "What do you think about it?", he added, carefully looking at him for an answer. 

"I don't just want to get a random, stupid job that I'll end up hating after a day or two…", Keith meant, repeating what he'd told his therapist before. 

"What do you want to do then?", Mick inquired, sounding curious. 

"Play music…", he mentioned as eventually, he actually stopped picking around on his guitar strings. 

"Become a teacher, too, maybe?", Mick suggested after a moment of consideration, but it only made Keith snort. 

"I didn't have the grades and stuff to go to university, Mick. Also how do you imagine that? I'm thirty years old, I don't have any money for tuition, all the others would be about twenty…Do you think they'd even hire someone like me as a teacher? If someone got wind of me having used, then parents surely would be up in arms against me…", Keith brought up all the reasons why it never would work out for him. 

There was no way he would go back to studying some boring, theoretical stuff only to get a job he wasn't even sure he was cut out to do. The playing music part, and teaching it to kids actually seemed quite nice, he could imagine that quite well. But he definitely didn't want to deal with all the rules of being a member of the staff and even less he desired to deal with annoying parents. 

"You could just keep helping me out with Mona…", Mick mused after they'd sat in silence for a while. Keith had just watched Mona wriggle around on his arms until Mick put her back down to lie on her belly, stretching her little arms out for the small, yellow ball. 

"Am I not already doing this?", he chuckled, observing the baby's tries to grab for her toy. 

"Well, yeah, but I mean...it's still gonna take me a few weeks at least to start going back to teaching. But...when I do...someone needs to be here and care for Mona. Day care is just for older kids", Mick explained with a little smile as he watched his daughter. 

"Do you want to take care of Mona for me when I'm at work? I'd pay you, it's not a problem once I'm off sick-leave again…", he offered. 

"I mean, I'd love to, but…", Keith began, disrupting himself as he started overthinking things. 

"But...?"

"It's not a proper job", he admitted. He needed something that would earn him proper money if he wanted to stop sleeping on Bill's couch someday soon. 

"Well...it would be something to do, at least. It might give you more time trying to figure out what you actually wanna do", Mick meant, lifting his gaze to smile at him in encouragement. 

"Okay", he simply said because what else was he gonna do? He loved what he was doing at the moment, appreciated that he was able to do so and that Mick let him help. 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah...I just don't think my therapist will like hearing about that…"

"So...does that mean you actually want to drop by less often then?", Mick concluded, trying to sound all casual but Keith could hear from the tone of his voice that he was about as excited about this prospect as Keith was himself. 

"He asked me to consider it…", he only gave back without directly looking at Mick. 

"Why?"

"Uh...I don't know, he...he thinks that always being around here won't really help me staying clean, I guess…" , Keith mumbled, biting his lower lip. Thinking back of his therapist's assumption of him compromising his progress by getting too attached to Mick actually made him feel somewhat embarrassed. 

"But what do you want?", Mick asked and Keith sighed. 

"I like how things are right now…I like spending time with you and Mona", he admitted, sounding almost sheepish. It was quite tough for him to actually express his thoughts and feelings, but at least he felt comfortable talking this openly to Mick about everything. He didn't have the impression that he needed to pretend with him because they'd experienced each other during some of their lowest moments. 

"I do, too, I really do", Mick replied, giving him a little smile that Keith could only return because it was truly encouraging. 

"I still kinda feel like...maybe I should try figuring out what it's like to...you know, go back to how we started out. Me just dropping by when you actually called me", he thought out aloud. This had been crossing his mind ever since he left his therapist's office, wondering if ultimately it might help him better to stay clean. Now that Mick could walk without crutches again, it wasn't like he still needed as much support as a few weeks ago. 

"You think?", Mick frowned, he seemed a bit confused. 

"I just wonder...cause...I keep thinking about drugs whenever...when I'm not around. When I'm here, it's alright", Keith admitted. 

"But isn't this good, though? Doesn't this mean being with us helps you?", Mick mused, sounding quite uplifting. 

"It does, but...I guess, maybe I should also try finding a way to keep my mind off stuff without coming around all the time…", Keith sighed, wondering for a second whether he was bringing forward his own thoughts or was just acting upon what his therapist had told him. 

"Yeah...I understand", Mick muttered, picking up Mona again as she started getting a little restless. "Hey, what's up with you, baby girl?", he smiled at her, rocking her in his arms. 

"Maybe let's just try?", Keith suggested after quietly observing them for a moment.

"What?", Mick asked, startled, ripping his eyes away from Mona to meet Keith's. 

"Me not stopping by tomorrow or planning anything for the next few days...but...you just calling me when you really need to?", he explained, even though he wasn't sure if it actually might be better than how they were currently handling things. "I'll be there then", he added in reassurance. 

"I mean, if this is something you need to do in order to make more progress...and stay clean, then sure. I'll just call Charlie or Ian and ask them to come around and keep me company, if I feel up to", Mick agreed, nodding. 

"It's fine. You can still call me if you really want me to drop by...or just talk", Keith offered, secretly hoping that Mick actually would ring him up to just talk. 

"Could I help you in any other way?", Mick wanted to know and Keith considered his words for a moment, before replying: 

"I don't know...just...let's see how this is working out, alright?" 

"I wish we could just...keep things as they are now. Feels like...you know, things are always a little better when you're here...", Mick quietly gave back and only then, despite Mick telling him so before, did Keith realise how important this was to Mick as well. How much it might be helping him either, just having Keith around, spending some time together. 

"It's not like I'm skipping town, Mick...I'm just a call away, okay?", he said, smirking a little in order to appear more light-hearted than he was. 

"Yeah, I know...but what about you taking care of Mona when I'm back at school?", Mick inquired and Keith had to admit that he made a good point there, since it seemed to be a contradiction to what they'd agreed upon earlier. 

"Let's not worry about it now. I just want to try", Keith meant, sounding more persuaded than he actually was and Mick nodded in agreement.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys,  
I'm back with the next chapter and have some plot for the next 3-4 chapters planned already and cannot wait to write it all down because it's gonna be sweet :)   
To all of you who're already locked up in quarantaine, hope this story might help to distract you a bit, to everyone else who's still allowed to leave the house for the moment (as do I), please stay safe!

The evening had been rather exhausting for Mick until he eventually found time to settle down on the couch and switch on the TV. Finally, he'd managed to calm down Mona and got her to fall asleep. After giving her a bath, she'd been all wriggly and squirmy and Mick had to notice once again that despite her being an adorable angel most of the time, she could be quite a handful as well. Especially when he was alone, it could get somewhat stressful at times. During the past couple of days, Keith hadn't come over to help out and it truly made a huge difference that Mick hadn't even been aware of before. At least not that drastically. 

Sure, Charlie and Shirley had stopped by in the afternoon, also Ian had dropped by a few times lately, but it just wasn't the same. Nevertheless, Mick obviously greatly appreciated his friends being there for him and supporting him. As he still was overcome by grief at the most unexpected times which would render him incapable of dealing with himself, let alone Mona, he was more than glad about any helpful hand he could get. Even if it was in the form of his mother, who had called him earlier to announce that she was planning to visit in a few weeks, since she wanted to see her granddaughter. Although he knew that he wouldn't be able to deal with her overwhelming care for more than a few days, Mick actually was looking forward to his mum's visit. And he also wanted for Mona to have her nanna around sometimes.

As he was wondering whether his aunt might also tag along again, the ringing of the doorbell ripped him out of his thoughts. A glimpse onto the watch on his wrist told him that it was shortly after nine pm. Confused, he pushed himself up from the couch, trying to think of who might be showing up without prior notice at this time on a Sunday evening. 

"Keith, hey" , Mick said, almost stunned, as he opened his door to find Keith standing there. They hadn't seen each other in nearly a week and Mick hadn't been expecting him at all. But he didn't mind in the slightest, on the contrary, Keith coming there actually was a rather welcome surprise.

"Hey", Keith mumbled in return, not directly looking at him. He seemed distraught, as though he wasn't sure whether it was the right choice that he came there. 

"What are you doing here?", Mick asked, noticing that Keith didn't appear to be in the best mood and shape. His face was quite pale and his hands were shaking lightly. 

"I know, you didn't call…", he started to justify his visit, sounding somewhat abashed as he directed his gaze toward the floor and stuffed his jittery hands into the pockets of his jeans. 

"It's alright, come on in. I'm happy you're here", Mick assured him as he realised how unsettled Keith was and stepped aside to let him in. The only reason why he hadn't called Keith yet was that he wanted to give him as much time as possible trying to get along and figure things out for himself. Mick was aware that Keith had supported him more than anyone during the past few months, even despite not being in the best place himself. He wondered, even, whether it had been kind of selfish of him to engross Keith in his matters the way he did, instead of giving him space to handle his own stuff. 

"You are?", Keith returned as they were walking over to the living room. He seemed baffled, but the tone of his voice was hopeful. 

"I like when you're around", Mick admitted, smiling lightly as they settled down on his couch together. "How are you, why did you decide to come by now?", he inquired, eager to strike up a casual conversation because Keith appeared to be somewhat uncomfortable. 

"Because...I wanted to see you. And Mona. How's she doing?", Keith replied and Mick realised that he still didn't properly focus on him, but seemed rather agitated, nestling around on his t-shirt. 

"I bathed her earlier, then she was a little excited and it took me a while to put her down, but now she's finally sleeping", he told him and Keith only nodded but didn't make the impression that he was actually listening to what he was saying.

"Hey, are you alright?", Mick wanted to know, as Keith didn't return anything for a while but only kept biting his bottom lip and fidgeting around with his hands. 

"I...uh...I didn't really know what else to do…", he started eventually, stopping himself to take a deep breath. "I wanted...I wanted to score so badly, Mick…Bill's at some girl's place and I...I just...I couldn't stop thinking about it anymore...I...I wanted it so bad...", he stammered, his voice breaking as he put a hand over his face and Mick was almost sure that he tried to brush away some tears. 

"Keith…", he got out, not quite knowing what to reply to this confession. To say the least, he felt somewhat overburdened, because he had no idea what to actually do, how to prevent Keith from doing something he'd only regret. 

"I'm so scared...and mad at myself, I don't know what to do...I needed to see you, cause I thought...I thought you're the only one who can stop me…", Keith stuttered as he couldn't hold back any longer and started sobbing. 

"Hey...come here", Mick said in a quiet voice, wrapping his arms around his back, pulling him into an embrace because it was the only reaction he could come up with. "You're here now. You didn't do it...you're here. And I won't let you do any shit, okay? I just won't let you…", he mumbled against Keith's neck in a calming manner as his shaking body tried to seek support by hugging Mick tightly. 

They stayed closely huddled together for what could have been both, mere minutes or several hours. Mick kept whispering little words of reassurance, one of his hands running over Keith's back soothingly, until his sobbs started to subside and his body stopped trembling so terribly. Holding Keith close, gradually feeling him calm down, made Mick remember that day some weeks back when their roles had been completely reversed. When Keith was the one who had found him shaken and drenched in tears on the bathroom floor, unable to help himself. Then, the simple act of Keith hugging him, showing him that he was there for him, had been what eventually helped him getting a grip on himself again. That's why he hoped that by just being there now, he could help Keith as well. 

"Thanks…", Keith quietly muttered after they'd stayed wrapped up in each other's arms until he finally stopped sniffling and his breathing returned to a normal pattern. Actually, embracing Keith like this was calming Mick down, too. Although he still didn't have a plan for how to prevent Keith from taking drugs if it should come to it, by now he felt that somehow they could manage. They'd find a way together. Keith had supported him all this time, literally since they first met. And now that Keith really needed him, it went without saying that Mick wanted to be there for him just as well. 

"It's okay", Mick reassured him once more, hugging him a little tighter, before eventually letting off of him. They still were sitting so close that Mick could feel Keith's warm breath on his face. He smelled a little like whiskey, but didn't seem drunk. 

"You had a drink?", he said, it wasn't a question, rather an observation. He only did understand Keith too well. Because sometimes the pain in his chest about losing Tessa got so bad that the sole way of drowning it out was feeling the sting of alcohol running down his throat. 

"Just some sips...was trying to...to calm myself…", Keith explained, running a hand over his face to brush his tears away.

"Do you need another one?", Mick offered, thinking of the bottle of whiskey and some gin he had stashed away in the kitchen for those moments when he just wanted to forget. The only reason why he wasn't drowning himself in booze some nights was the thought that Mona could need him any time and he couldn't be all fucked up then. It would be completely irresponsible and not at all something that Tessa would approve of, were she still there.

"It doesn't help…", Keith sighed, letting himself sink against the backrest of the couch, slouching down in what looked like defeat. 

"Tell me what you need then", Mick prompted him, trying to think of something, anything, he could offer Keith. Maybe they could play some guitar to get distracted? 

"I don't know...just...not being alone actually helps already…", he mumbled, messing up his own hair. 

"Do you want to say hi to Mona?", Mick suggested then. 

"Isn't she sleeping?", Keith frowned. 

"Well, yeah...but we could still check on her?", he meant, an uplifting smile crossing his lips as Keith nodded in reply. 

They snuck into Mick's bedroom, deliberately careful not to wake the sleeping baby. For a moment, they paused in front of Mona's crib, quietly observing her in the dim light that was falling into the room from the lamp in the hall. She seemed all peaceful for now, and looked entirely adorable, sucking on her dummy.

"Hi, little one...sleep tight", Keith whispered, cautiously adjusting her small blanket, which made Mick smile contentedly. Keith was being so good with her, had been since the very beginning. For Mick, it was outright endearing seeing him interact with Mona, treating her like she was his own. He would never be able to put into simple words how much this meant to him, and how indescribably grateful he was to Keith. 

Observing Keith, who was smiling lightly at the sight of the quietly sleeping baby, Mick realised that even though agitated and nervous before, he seemed visibly relaxed now. As Keith noticed Mick's gaze upon himself, he searched to meet his eyes in the darkened room. Once he caught his gaze, Mick gave him a little smile which Keith returned, and then indicated to leave the room and let Mona sleep. 

"Stay here tonight, Keith...please. I don't think you should be on your own", Mick quietly said as he closed the bedroom door behind them. "You can sleep on the couch, it's not a problem", he added, insistently looking at him, hoping Keith would agree. The thought of letting him leave now to be all alone was unbearable. Mick knew he wouldn't be able to deal with it if he let Keith go now and he were to relapse again. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself for not at least trying to prevent this. 

"Thanks…", was the only thing Keith mumbled in reply, but he appeared to be relieved about Mick's offer. 

"It's okay. You've always been there for me during the past weeks, whenever I needed you...just let me help you this once", Mick pointed out, shortly pressing Keith's arm in reassurance. 

"You've already been helping me more than you know…", Keith admitted as they came to a halt in the living room. 

"I'm glad you decided to come here instead of…you know", Mick started, but disrupted himself because he couldn't get himself to even imagine Keith doing drugs again. Being clearly aware of what could happen in case Keith did, that he could actually OD and die, was too awful a thought. 

"I couldn't think of anything else anymore...just...where to get some stuff…I wanted to go over to Ronnie's. Haven't heard of him in ages...", Keith let him know, sighing in frustration, ruffling his own hair. 

"You didn't do it, though...hey...I'm proud of you, Keith. It's alright that you came here instead...it's gonna be okay", Mick told him, honestly meaning it. 

"When I'm with you and Mona...I don't have to think of all the shit in my head...so the only solution was to come here...", Keith whispered, sheepishly averting his gaze to the floor. "I need you…", he added so quietly that it was almost inaudible. 

"I'm glad to be able to help at least somehow", Mick returned, quite touched by Keith's words. "And I really need you too, you know…", he admitted, because it was the truth. The past few days where Keith hadn't been there to support him had made him painfully aware of this fact. Probably, it should have scared him how desperately they were depending on each other, but it wasn't what he felt like at all. Instead, he was almost hopeful. Because now he knew that Keith needed him just as badly as Mick himself needed Keith, and that they were having each other's back. 

"It was a shitty idea…", Keith muttered, disrupting his thoughts. 

"What?", he asked, all but startled. 

"Not seeing you again earlier...I don't think Chris was right about this...staying away...made things only worse", Keith explained, his gaze still directed to the floor as if he was ashamed of himself. 

"Yeah…it seems so", Mick agreed, not quite understanding the therapist's motivation of telling Keith to stay away if it made him feel bad. 

"How were you holding up?", Keith wanted to know then, apparently looking for a change of topic. 

"My mum called, she wants to visit soon...Charlie was here, Ian too...but…", Mick told him, stopping himself, not sure whether to utter his next words because they might sound pathetic. But then again, after everything they went through already during the past weeks, he figured that maybe they were long beyond that by now. "I...I kinda missed you", he eventually admitted, and now he was the one to coyly avert his eyes as he felt himself blushing. 

"I kinda missed you too", Keith gave back after a moment, and as Mick dared to lift his gaze, he found nothing but fondness in his eyes. Before he could think of anything to reply, Keith was stifling a yawn. 

"Are you tired?", Mick inquired, carefully regarding him. He looked utterly exhausted.

"I haven't slept properly in days...", Keith sighed, once more running a hand over his face. 

"Let me fetch you some stuff, a towel, a blanket…then you can try getting some rest", he offered, already turning around to grab said objects. 

"Thanks", Keith repeated once again. 

"Do you need anything else?", Mick asked once he returned, handing Keith a towel.

"I'm good", Keith said, turning to walk over to the bathroom.

"Really?" Mick insisted, because he wanted to be sure Keith was alright. 

"For now", he meant, nodding, as if to underline his statement. 

"I'm glad you're here", Mick assured him, yet again, because he truly was. Especially about Keith trusting him so much that he'd rather come around to talk instead of just giving in to the drugs.

"Yeah, me too", Keith replied, mirroring his smile and for a moment they simply kept their eyes locked on the other's in silent understanding. 

"I'll just...wash up a bit", he mentioned then, pointing towards the bathroom. 

"Yeah, sure", Mick nodded and busied himself with putting the blanket onto the couch. 

Once he heard Keith leaving the bathroom, Mick looked into the living room from the kitchen, where he had poured himself a glass of water. Keith had kicked off his boots and was wriggling out of his jeans, before he plopped down onto the couch in just his underpants and t-shirt. 

"Sleep well, Keith", Mick said, smiling a little as Keith laid down, adjusting his pillow. 

"G'night, Mick", Keith mumbled in return, his voice sounding all sleepy, and Mick turned off the lights before retreating to his own bedroom.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,   
here, have some comforting fluff for your time in isolation...I hope you're all fine and are staying safe. 
> 
> As of now, I've got five more chapters planned for this story, let's see if I'll actually manage to conclude it this way or if it'll get longer...who knows^^ anyway, enjoy reading!

Keith was staying over at Mick's place the second night in a row. It hadn't really been planned and he knew that he probably should have gone back to Bill's, but actually he didn't care. Mick didn't mind having him over in the slightest and that first night on the couch, Keith had slept surprisingly well. He must have been totally knocked out, because he didn't even hear Mona screaming, twice, in the middle of the night. Mick had assured him in the morning that everything was alright, though, and said he was glad Keith could finally get some sleep. 

Actually, he felt tremendously better that day. He wasn't so tired anymore that he feared he might just be blacking out, and his mind wasn't revolving around getting a hit any longer, because there were too many other things to focus on. Keith had ended up preparing breakfast while Mick was changing Mona's nappy. Then they'd eaten together, Mick letting him try to feed Mona her bottle, which the little one eagerly started sucking on. Afterwards, Keith had needed to head over to Bill's, though, in order to take a shower and change his clothes before seeing his therapist. Mick and Mona had accompanied him on the tube for the first part of the way because Mick had to take his baby girl to some check-up at the pediatrician's. 

While riding on the Circle Line train, Mick had asked him whether he wanted to cook something together for dinner that night, and since Keith didn't want to hang around all alone at Bill's again, obviously he'd agreed. Being able to look forward to cooking shepherd's pie, one of his favourites, had helped him even further not to indulge too deeply in any self-destructive thoughts that day. Instead, his therapy lesson went quite well, even if Chris wasn't too amused hearing about Keith hanging out at Mick's place all the time and even staying the night. But honestly, he couldn't care less about his therapist's opinion. In the end, it was only some advice and not an order he needed to follow. Being with Mick made him feel better, happy, and that's all that mattered to Keith at the moment. He was craving for some normalcy instead of having to force himself to stop craving for drugs. Because when with Mick, he never had to keep himself from thinking about taking a hit, he simply didn't even have to think about it in the first place. 

They had a great time this evening as well, listening to music, feeding Mona after Mick had bathed her, then tucking her in together, and chatting the whole time about bands, and records, and movies while preparing and having their dinner. Mick had been quite drained afterwards, so they ended up on the couch, watching some telly, until he had announced that he would take a shower and then try to get some rest. He'd offered Keith to stay over again and without considering it further, he had nodded in agreement. 

Now, after watching some more telly and then lying awake for a while, Keith finally was almost drifting off to sleep himself, ready to get engulfed by sweet oblivion. But then a scream startled him, leaving him wide awake. It wasn't Mona's cries, though, that had woken him, Keith realised, once he sat up on the couch, trying to find his orientation in the dark living room. It was Mick, screaming in panic and then, a moment later, Mona started crying, too, apparently just as startled as Keith. 

"Hey...what's going on?", he asked, his concern clearly audible in his voice, once he'd walked over to Mick's bedroom, poking his head inside. "Are you okay?"

The standard lamp was switched on and Mick was sitting at the edge of his bed, his sweaty t-shirt sticking to his shaking body. He was quietly sobbing into his hands, unable to get up, or even reply to Keith, while Mona was still crying in her crib. 

"Shh, it's alright", Keith whispered, not sure whether to calm down Mona, or Mick, or both of them, before he picked up the wailing baby. Rocking her in his arms, quietly mumbling some calming words at her, he sat down next to Mick.

"What happened?", he questioned, still sounding rather concerned as he pressed Mona closer to his chest with one arm, resting his free hand on Mick's back. He was still silently crying, trembling as though he was freezing. Keith was drawing soothing patterns on his back, while lightly cooing at Mona, who apparently seemed to get somewhat sleepy again. He couldn't tell how long it took for both, Mick and Mona, to finally calm down. But eventually, the baby settled against his chest, not screaming any longer.

"You're tired, aren't you?", Keith mumbled at her as Mona actually yawned, making him smile a little and he pressed a soft kiss to her thin blonde hair. 

"Are you okay?", he carefully asked Mick, once he, too, had finally gotten calmer and started rubbing the tears out of his eyes. 

"I'm sorry", he muttered, instead of replying, his gaze directed towards his hands. "I didn't mean to…to wake you and all this...and Mona...she needs her sleep", he stammered, looking absolutely miserable as if he was about to start weeping again. 

"It's fine", Keith assured him, softly squeezing his shoulder, trying to give him some comfort. "What happened?", he repeated then, supportingly resting his hand on Mick's back. For a while, they were sitting on the edge of the bed in silence, Mick apparently not quite ready to talk. Keith slowly kept rocking Mona who had fallen back asleep again. 

"Just a pretty fucked up dream…", Mick replied eventually, fixing his eyes on his sleeping daughter. It was all he offered to Keith in explanation but he didn't press him further. 

"Hmm...you wanna hold Mona for a bit? She fell back asleep", Keith suggested as he followed his gaze. Getting to hold his baby for a moment probably would help calming Mick some more. 

"Hmm, let's lie her back down...she needs her rest", Mick meant, taking Mona from Keith's arms. Then he pressed a little kiss to her brow, silently whispering to her, holding her close to himself before gently laying her back down into her crib. After tucking her in, he kept observing her for a moment, looking almost serene now. Meanwhile, Keith eventually got up in order to go back to the living room to let Mick catch some sleep and try to find some rest himself. 

"Keith?", Mick whispered, turning around to face him as Keith passed him by. 

"Hmm?", he made, stopping short before he reached the door. 

"Don't leave", he all but pleaded with him and Keith frowned, because he didn't intend to leave now. It was the middle of the night, he couldn't possibly get over to Bill's place at this time. 

"I'm not going anywhere...just to the couch", he explained, figuring that Mick probably didn't want to feel all alone after his nightmare. "Should I leave the door open?", he offered. 

"No, I mean…", Mick started, sounding unsure of his next words, lowering his gaze to the ground as if embarrassed. "Can you stay with me...here?", he got out eventually, his voice so quiet in the end that Keith almost had trouble understanding him. 

"You...you want me to?", he asked, somewhat perplexed because he hadn't expected a request like this. Actually, it made him get a little flustered, so he didn't directly focus on Mick's eyes once he lifted his gaze to reply to him. 

"I mean...if you don't mind..I...I don't want to be alone right now", Mick tried to justify himself, looking at him sheepishly. "I mean...not all alone, Mona's here, but…but...I...", he rambled on, until Keith took pity on him, disrupting him.

"Sure", he simply said, smiling at him encouragingly because Mick still seemed pretty pathetic and like he could need some reassurance. Keith probably wouldn't be able to fall asleep too well anyway, so at least he could stay with Mick, maybe making it easier for him to find some sleep. 

"Thanks", Mick whispered, he honestly sounded relieved and even managed a little smile in return. 

"Don't mention it", Keith meant as Mick slipped under his blanket, indicating for Keith to lie down with him. 

Somewhat reluctantly, he lifted up the blanket on the other side of the double bed, before lying down himself, rolling onto his back. Once he got a little more comfortable and Mick had switched off the standard lamp, Keith whispered through the dark:

"Are you alright now?"

"Hmm...was just...a bloody fucked up dream...", Mick replied and Keith could feel how he turned onto his side, facing him. 

"You wanna talk about it?", he silently asked, mirroring Mick's position. 

"No...I wanna forget it", Mick meant. "Tell me something, will you?", he prompted him instead. 

"What?", Keith wondered, trying to make out Mick's features in the orange light of the street lantern falling inside through the window. But he could only see his silhouette. 

"Anything..."

"Sometimes I can't sleep...it's a side effect from drug use...and then getting clean. The body needs to get adjusted again...then I go outside for walks", Keith started with the first thing that came to his mind. Of course it was his insomnia, because it was what was toughest for him dealing with, apart from still actually craving drugs every now and again. "I like how calm it is then...London at two or three in the morning...there's almost no one around during the week...almost no cars. It's soothing, it really helps clearing your mind…", he went on. 

"You ever see any other sleepless people wandering about?", Mick wanted to know. 

"Not really...I like how eerie it's feeling...it's calming, though, not unsettling", Keith clarified. "Makes you feel like the whole city belongs to you and you could do anything you want…", he added. 

"What do you want to do, then, in these moments?", Mick inquired and Keith had to chuckle lightly, because there really was only one thing he truly wanted. 

"Actually? Just finally getting tired enough to finally be able to sleep", he admitted and it made Mick quietly snort. 

"Does it tire you out?"

"Most of the time, yeah...then I can finally get some rest", he sighed, thinking of the countless miles walked through empty streets and along the Thames. 

"When Mona wakes up crying sometimes, I'll pick her up and walk around the flat, rocking her in my arms...feels good finally being able to do that", Mick mentioned and Keith remembered all those times when Mick would blame himself for not being able to carry Mona around as he needed to use crutches. 

"Is she still keeping you up a lot at night?", Keith inquired, thinking of how often Mick had recently mentioned getting up to look after Mona. He had also told him that Mona had been crying twice the night before, but Keith had slept sound through it all. 

"Sometimes...she's starting teething now...it's getting bad then", Mick said, sighing lightly. He sounded as tired as he'd looked in the morning. 

"I honestly didn't hear her last night…", Keith replied, still in wonder that he had slept so tightly the night before that not even a baby's cries could bother him. 

"It's fine, you needed some sleep", Mick mentioned and Keith could only hum in agreement. These past weeks, most nights he had probably slept for four hours, if he got lucky. Sometimes, he'd laid down in the afternoon for a bit, but it just wasn't the same as getting a good night's rest. 

"You want me to...stay over more regularly and we could take turns? So you could catch some sleep?", Keith offered, all naturally. "You seem pretty tired, too", he added, because he'd noticed for a while now how exhausted Mick always seemed. It wasn't surprising, though, him being a single father, and still grieving about losing the mother of his child. 

"I couldn't demand that of you, Keith", Mick returned, almost taken aback by Keith's suggestion. 

"I just told you...I can't sleep too well anyway...I wouldn't mind", Keith assured him. Whether he spent his sleepless nights wandering the streets or caring for Mona if it needed be, didn't make a huge difference for him. But at least the latter would help one of them being well rested in the morning. 

"You'd actually want to do that?", Mick asked as if he couldn't believe Keith's words. 

"I don't mind, really, it's fine", he meant, smiling lightly to himself because Mick appeared quite baffled. 

"Alright...I mean, I already told you...you can stay over whenever you want. You're always welcome…", Mick repeated what he'd mentioned the other day. 

"Thanks", Keith gave back, smiling at him even though Mick probably couldn't see it in the dark. 

"Thank you", he meant, and from the tone of his voice, Keith figured he might be smiling as well. "You have no idea how much I appreciate you, Keith", Mick added, reaching out to gently press his arm. 

"I'm glad it can be that way...us helping each other out", Keith said, before stifling a yawn. "Hmm...actually, I'm kinda tired now…"

"You are?"

"Hmm…", he mumbled, pressing his face closer into the pillow. 

"Then let's try to get some sleep, shall we?", Mick suggested and Keith nodded, before realising he couldn't see him. 

"G'night", he whispered, his eyelids feeling all heavy. 

"Sleep well, Keith", he heard Mick whispering in return. 

When Keith drifted back into consciousness, his sleep clouded brain first registered the cozy warmth engulfing him. Also, he felt really comfortable and surprisingly well rested for being up in the middle of the night. The next thing he noticed was the body pressed closely against his own. As he started getting a little more awake, he remembered lying down with Mick, falling asleep next to him after his nightmare and their hushed late night conversation. Their legs were all entangled and one of his arms was loosely draped over Mick's side. As he opened his eyes, he found Mick huddled against him, his face nuzzled against Keith's chest. He was still fast asleep, his breathing even, seeming relaxed and peaceful. 

For a split second, Keith thought that he looked perfectly endearing. Once he could properly process what was happening, though, he felt himself getting somewhat embarrassed. Lying in bed with Mick like this was way too intimate a position to not make him get flustered and awkward about it. In an instance of panic creeping up in his chest, he wanted to pull away, just roll over and get out of bed. But he didn't, because Mick was sleeping all sound and Keith didn't want to disturb his rest. Also, he couldn't deny how comfortable and soothing it felt, lying there like that. It was almost setting his mind at peace. He couldn't deny, either that for once, in what appeared like an eternity, he'd actually slept pretty well. Better than the night before even. Eventually, he took a deep breath, allowing himself to enjoy some more moments of serenity, closing his eyes. And he ended up hugging Mick a little tighter against himself because it felt amazingly nice to be holding him like that. 

He must have dozed back off, because the next time he opened his eyes was when Mick started moving, slowly waking up as well. They still were closely wrapped up, facing each other, and once Mick was fully awake, he stared at him out of confused, still sleepy eyes, his hair all dishevelled.

"Hey", Keith quietly mumbled, a little smile crossing his face because in some way, Mick looked almost adorable like that.

"Hey...what…", Mick blinked at him, somewhat disoriented. "I'm sorry…", he said then, once he registered their sleeping position, skidding away a bit, pulling his legs closer to himself so they no longer were entwined with Keith's. 

"Don't worry, it's okay", Keith affirmed, trying a light smile in encouragement. 

"I didn't mean to…", Mick started to explain himself but there really was no need to. They had finally gotten some rest and it had been quite comfortable, even comforting in a way. 

"Neither did I…", Keith mentioned. "But it...was nice…", he sheepishly added, not meeting Mick's eyes as he felt his cheeks growing hot upon the confession. Under different circumstances, he probably would be even more embarrassed about waking up, embracing another bloke like that. But for now, he was mostly glad that he actually felt well rested and content. 

"Hmm...it was…", Mick admitted after a moment and Keith observed a tiny smile creeping onto his lips. "How did you sleep?"

"Better than in weeks. What about you, are you feeling better?", he asked. 

"Yeah, I'm good for now, I guess...", he offered and Keith was glad to hear so. "Sorry again for waking you last night…", Mick added, but Keith shook his head. 

"Don't be…", he returned and Mick only nodded.

"How's Mona?", Mick wanted to know then. 

"I think, still asleep?", Keith guessed because he hadn't heard her waking, or getting cranky. 

"I'll check on her", Mick meant, rolling over and getting out of bed to look after Mona in her crib. Keith let out a little sigh due to the discomfort of Mick's warm body being gone and the now empty space beside him. It had been too pleasing a way of waking up and he was clearly aware that this wasn't something he should hope to get used to.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
hope you're all well and staying safe.   
I'm finally getting to the real sweet stuff in this story and I'm soo excited about it because some of the scenes happening in the upcoming chapters have been stuck on my mind for months, or almost a year, really...it's actually been almost exactly one year since I first had the idea for this story. And I'm so happy to be at this point with it right now...after this one, I have 4 more chapters outlined, but one of them might get too long, so maybe it'll end up being 5, who knows...  
Enjoy reading!

"Do you want me to go back to Bill's for a few days while your mum is visiting?", Keith asked him while they were having breakfast together. 

This day, Mick's mother would come around to stay for a short visit because she wanted to check in on him, make sure he was doing better. And obviously, she wanted to see Mona, who was almost four and a half months old by now and had grown so much since the last time her grandmother was around. 

"No, it's alright. I want you to be here...my mum will drive me crazy otherwise", Mick gave back, while he tried feeding Mona some of her baby pap. By now she was old enough to have something other than milk from her bottle. A few days ago, Mick had found out that she really seemed to like mashed potatoes with applesauce. It had sparked a bittersweet memory, one of Tessa telling him that the very same dish had once been her first real food as a baby. 

"She probably just means well", Keith mentioned and Mick sighed, because he knew he was right. 

"She does, it doesn't mean she isn't still kinda annoying, though", he meant, carefully wiping some leftover pap from the corner of Mona's mouth with her bib. 

"I'll just stay on the couch, then", Keith considered as he took another bite from his toast. 

"You don't have to...mum anyways will be sleeping in the nursery", Mick reminded him of the makeshift guest bed there.

"You sure?", Keith inquired, giving him an expectant look. 

"I like the way things are right now...it's nice when you...I just…", Mick started, looking for the right words, not quite sure how to express what he wanted to say without sounding pathetic. "I...I can sleep way better like that...when you're there", he settled on eventually, because he wanted Keith to know. 

Almost a month had passed since that first night Keith had comforted him and stayed with him after that horrible nightmare which left him drenched in tears. After that, it had become somewhat of a habit for Keith to stay over at Mick's place more often than not. Actually, he barely was crashing on Bill's couch any longer. By now, he rarely was crashing on Mick's couch anymore as well, but instead ended up crawling into bed with him most nights. 

They never actually talked about what was going on, they just agreed that it was really nice and good. Mick felt way better rested since they were taking turns getting up at night when Mona needed their attention. His nightmares had become less frequent, either. Once or twice a week, he'd still startle out of a completely messed up dream, but it was far better than being haunted almost every single night. 

To calm him down, Keith would take him into his arms, wrap him up in an embrace and mumble sweet little words of reassurance until Mick could relax and fall back asleep. Their initial awkwardness about waking up in each other's arms had dissolved almost completely over time. It was like they'd come to a silent agreement not to question what they were doing as long as it helped both of them to feel better. A few times, they'd even ended up cuddling intentionally, before falling asleep or after waking up, simply because it was quite comforting and enjoyable. 

"Yeah, me either", Keith smiled at him softly in agreement. "I like the way things are now, too", he admitted. "I was just thinking...your mum...she might not understand...just like Charlie…", he mused, before taking a sip of his coffee. 

Mick sighed. Charlie had found them in bed together a couple days ago as he stopped by unexpectedly, letting himself in with the key Mick gave him because he didn't want to startle Mona by ringing the doorbell. At least he had possessed the decency to lightly knock on Mick's bedroom door and announce himself. That way, they could sit up properly and scoot apart before Charlie entered the room. Otherwise, he would have walked in on them cuddling, Mick with his head nestled against Keith's shoulder, an arm draped across his chest and Keith with his hand buried in Mick's hair, gently messing it up. 

Still, Charlie had been very confused to say the least. He'd even wanted to have a word with Mick about what was going on. As it turned out, he continued to be a bit wary of Keith. And, obviously, he simply couldn't wrap his head around why Keith would be spending the night, why he was sleeping in Mick's bed. Yet, he eventually believed Mick when he told him about his nightmares and Keith's insomnia and just muttered something about being glad Mick could get some rest. 

"Are you worried about that?", Mick questioned and Keith just shrugged. 

"Are you?", he asked back. 

"I'll talk to her. You know, it doesn't matter what they're thinking...I just...I'm sleeping really well most nights...I barely have these nightmares anymore...you seem better rested, too", he mentioned and Keith nodded. 

"I am...I still have insomnia some nights, but…", he disclosed, before Mick disrupted him because he'd assumed that it had gotten better as well. 

"You do?"

"I just get up and do some push-ups in the living room...but it's fine...a lot of the time I can finally sleep…", Keith told him and Mick hummed in understanding. Unless Mona was screaming and one of them had to look after her, Mick hadn't even really noticed Keith sneaking out to exercise in the middle of the night. 

"Even with Mona teething", he meant, giving him a lopsided smile. 

"Yeah...it's going alright at the moment", Keith gave back, smiling as well. 

"We probably should tidy things up a bit before my mum arrives", Mick figured after a moment and Keith agreed with a nod, grabbing their plates and cups to wash them up. 

Sooner than expected, the doorbell was ringing, announcing their visitor. But they'd managed to clean up the kitchen and dining table in the meantime. While Keith was staying with Mona who had just fallen asleep in his arms, Mick went downstairs to greet his mother who had arrived with a cab. As he opened up the front door, the cabby was just lifting her suitcase out of the boot. But Mick didn't really have time to register it all properly, because his mum was already flinging herself at his neck, kissing his cheeks. 

"How are you, Micky?", she wanted to know once she let off of him and stepped inside as Mick grabbed her suitcase to carry it upstairs. 

"It's going okay at the moment...I'm okay for now", he explained. "How are you, how's your knee doing?", he meant, slowing down his steps as they were escalating the stairs up to his flat. 

"Same old, it's alright with some pills…", his mother deflected and Mick let it rest at that. "How's my beautiful granddaughter?", she inquired then. 

"She just fell asleep...but she's doing amazing, growing each day. She's getting her first teeth and loves mashed potatoes...", Mick told her proudly as they eventually arrived on the second floor and he pushed the door open and put her luggage down. Keith was just stepping out of Mick's bedroom as he and his mother entered the flat. 

"Mum, this is Keith", he announced, making them acquainted to each other. 

"Hi, Mrs. Jagger. Nice to meet you", Keith meant, stretching out his hand to shake hers.

"You're a friend of Mick's?", his mum asked, looking from Keith to Mick and back. 

"Yeah...he's been helping me out with Mona a lot. We met at the hospital", Mick explained as they still were standing around in the hall. 

"Oh, you're a carer?", his mother wanted to know, and Keith shook his head. 

"No, ma'am...I'm just…", he said, trying to figure out what to say best, but Mick already jumped in for him. 

"Keith has been staying with me these past weeks. He really is my biggest support...I couldn't have handled things around here without him", he meant in all honesty, smiling at Keith in reassurance. 

"Micky, you didn't need to hire domestic help! I would have helped you", his mother cut in and Mick almost had to laugh about her assumption. 

"Mum...no...it's not like that! We're friends, flatmates? Keith basically moved in with me a few weeks ago…", he tried to make her understand, quite taken aback by his mother's assumption. 

"Oh, but...is there even enough space? Have you been staying on the couch this whole time?", she frowned, observing Keith almost dumbfounded. 

"Uh...yeah…", he only muttered, shrugging. 

"He's staying with me", Mick said, internally sighing at his mother's perplexed face. 

"What?", she questioned as if she hadn't understood him. 

"I...I was having nightmares all the time...about the accident...and what happened to Tessa...I couldn't sleep properly...but with Keith...it helps...", he started explaining, watching his mother's expression change from confused to concerned. 

"Oh, love...I know how badly you're still missing her...how are you holding up?", she asked, hugging him to her chest. 

"Somewhat better by now...thanks to Keith and Mona", Mick replied as his mum let go of him. 

"Where is Mona? Where's my baby girl?", she asked then, now all gushing. 

"Taking a little nap, I just laid her down. You wanna see her?, Keith suggested and Mick's mum eagerly nodded. 

"So, when will you start teaching again?", his mother asked him while they were having lunch together. After shortly peeking into his bedroom so his mum could see Mona and say hi, they all had decided to let her sleep in peace and instead cook lunch together.

"Next week, actually. Only a few hours at first to get adjusted again, but...I'm looking forward to it", he meant, actually feeling glad about being able to go back to work again. It would be good to get back to normalcy, seeing all his colleagues again, teaching the kids about notes and instruments, singing with them. 

"That's great. But what about Mona?", his mother wanted to know. 

"Keith will be taking care of her", Mick informed her of their plan. They'd talked about it again recently and agreed that it would be the most reasonable decision. Why would Mick hire anyone else as a babysitter when he already knew Keith and was sure that he could handle Mona? 

"Don't you have a job to go to as well?", she asked Keith, almost skeptically. 

"I, uh...there isn't, really...taking care of Mick and Mona basically has been my job lately...", Keith admitted, clearly sounding embarrassed, even though Mick thought that there was no reason to be, quite on the contrary. 

"But what did you do before?", Mick's mother went on questioning him and Mick really wished she wouldn't always be this nosy because Keith obviously seemed uncomfortable to be talking about that. 

"I uh...I lost my job. Then almost OD'd...but I went to rehab...I'm still recovering, but doing way better now, also thanks to Mick and Mona...", Keith muttered, coyly meeting Mick's gaze as if to seek reassurance. 

"Keith has been supporting me so much, I don't know what I would have done without him…he helped me when I couldn't help myself and he's so great with Mona", Mick said, his words were meant for his mum, to make her understand, but he kept his eyes focused on Keith, giving him a light smile. 

"I think we should be checking on Mona", his mother cut in before he could go on. 

"She's fine, we checked on her earlier", he returned, creasing his brow. 

"Mick", his mother said, and the tone of her voice made him realise that this wasn't as much about checking on Mona as about having a word with him alone. He nearly sighed about his mother, shooting Keith an apologetic look. 

"It's okay, go look after Mona...I'll...do the dishes in the meantime", Keith offered with an understanding nodd. Mick actually felt like he needed to apologise to Keith for the way his mother was acting, for making him get so uncomfortable. But he knew that it might only start a whole other discussion with her so he kept his mouth shut for the moment. 

"Thanks, Keith", is all that he said, before following his mum to his bedroom. 

"Micky...what's the deal with Keith?", she asked him almost as soon as he had closed the door behind himself. She was sitting on his bed, next to Mona's crib, observing the calmly sleeping baby. 

"What do you mean?", he asked back because he didn't get what this all was about. Why she was being this rejecting towards Keith although she'd only just met him. 

"If I didn't know better I'd say you're behaving like a married couple", she stated and Mick could only stare at her. 

For a moment, he was rendered speechless by his mother's comment. Obviously, it was true that they'd grown quite close to each other. He really enjoyed having Keith around, spending time with him, also when they weren't taking care of Mona. Recently, they'd started jamming together, had ended up writing a song even. They were cooking together all the time while listening to music, sometimes they watched some telly, sitting there in silence, or they'd end up talking about everything and nothing. Often, they also went for strolls through the park with Mona, some days Mick would push the pram, others Keith. When Mick got depressed about Tessa, or had another nightmare, Keith was there for him to confide in if he wanted to, or to just hold him. When Keith got restless, or zoomed out and it was obvious that he'd started thinking about drugs again, Mick was there to distract him, talk to him, suggest they should be going out for a walk. It was true that they were depending on each other a lot, but in the end, it helped both of them to get through it together. 

While considering his mother's words, Mick had to admit to himself, that she was making a point, but he still thought it was ludicrous. They weren't actually a married couple, their interactions were solely amicable. Even if they were sleeping in the same bed, all they did was hold each other when they most needed the comfort. There was nothing sexual about it, it just felt really good, uplifting. For a split second, Mick almost panicked, thinking his mum might be saying all this because she was assuming that Keith and him were shagging. But it was laughable, he couldn't even let his mind wander to anything beyond their tender embraces. And it wasn't as much because Keith was a bloke, but rather because he still was mourning Tessa. He couldn't even begin to imagine fancying someone new, being with someone new romantically. Even just starting to think about it made his head spin and his stomach turn.

"Mum!", was all he could reply in a hushed voice, sounding rather outraged. 

"What? It is like that, isn't it…?", she dared saying and it took him a lot to not simply sigh and roll his eyes at her. 

"I'm not...we're not...obviously you don't get it, mum. I need him...and he needs me too", Mick gave back, almost exasperated, trying to keep his voice down to not wake up Mona.

"So, what does that mean…you need him?", she wanted to know and he slowly started feeling like being interrogated. 

"What?", he meant, not managing to hide his growing annoyance about his mother treating him like she feared he was incapable of making reasonable decisions. 

"He's sleeping in your bed", his mum returned, all but indignantly. 

"Because it helps me not having nightmares about watching Tessa die over and over again…although I wasn't even there when she...", he got out, feeling his chest tightening. This wasn't something he was willing to discuss right then. 

"I'm so sorry, Mick. I had no idea it was still that bad...you don't talk to me", she mentioned, her expression softening. 

"I'm talking to Keith…", he mumbled, not looking at her. "Are you done questioning my choices now?" 

"I'm sorry, love. It's nice that you're having a friend like him who's supportive like that", she meant and he could already sense her demur. "But what about his drug problem?"

"Mum…"

"What? Am I not allowed to be concerned? He's taking care of my granddaughter after all", she meant and although he did understand her concerns, as he had been sharing them in the very beginning, by now he couldn't comprehend them anymore. Not after everything Keith and him had gone through together during the past months. 

"He has been clean for over three months now. Most of the time he isn't even thinking about that shit any longer", he tried making clear. 

"What if he has a relapse?"

"He's seeing a therapist, he's doing so much better. I'm helping him...like he's helping me. I wouldn't let this happen to him again", Mick assured her. 

"He seems like a nice lad, really lovely fella, but...", his mum started and he just had to disrupt her before she could go on expressing her distrust in Keith. 

"He's the best person I ever met, mum. I don't know if I could have managed things without him", he admitted, but apparently she didn't even listen to him. 

"He's an unemployed drug addict", she countered and Mick got frustrated with her. 

"He's recovering. How often do I have to tell you? Just...cut him some slack, will you? I need him…", he gave back, feeling angry but his voice sounded choked. He must be looking pathetic because eventually, his mum sighed, reaching out her hand to lightly press his arm. 

"He's really helping you feel better, isn't he?", his mum inquired and finally, she seemed willing to understand. 

"When he's around...at least I'm not getting sad about Tessa all the time…", Mick told her honestly. 

"Why is he doing all that for you?", she asked the question he'd expected sooner, that he had heard from Charlie and Ian before. 

"Because helping me is helping him too...staying away from drugs and stuff. And by now, I think...we just...got really accustomed to each other", he explained. "He's...he's really great with Mona, mum. You should see them...Keith was the one to actually calm her down when I first got to see her at the hospital. We were roommates and he managed to calm her down when I couldn't even pick her up...he almost loves her as much as I do", he let her know, hoping that once she saw, she could finally understand. 

"You're really fond of him", his mum meant, it was rather a statement than a question for once. 

"He gave me...something like hope...when I most needed it…", Mick admitted, looking down at his quietly sleeping daughter. Of course, Mona too, was giving him hope every single day. But Keith had managed to rip him out of his bubble of grief and self-pity. 

"I understand...and I'm glad you're taking care of each other. But for how long is this supposed to be going on?"

"What do you mean?", Mick repeated his prior question, not getting what his mum was onto. 

"There is some chap living with you, raising your daughter with you, sharing your bed...where's this going to end up? You should give it a little more time and then you should find a new woman to be a mother for Mona", his mum suggested and Mick couldn't believe what she was saying. That she even had the nerve coming up with something like this. 

"Mum, you know I love you, but if you mention this again, I'm gonna ask you to leave", is all he could return because he was too shocked to come up with anything else. 

"What?", his mother wanted to know as if her suggestion had been the most obvious and logical thing in the world. 

"I don't need another woman...Mona has a mother...she just...cannot be around…", he stopped as his voice broke in the end, feeling tears welling up in his eyes, but he was too enraged to cry. "God damnit, mum...it's not even been five months...and you're saying stuff like that…I cannot believe you right now…", he railed at her.

"Micky, I just want you to be alright and happy…", she tried consoling him, but he didn't want to hear it. 

"I'm gonna help Keith with the dishes…", he muttered, trying to suppress his anger in order to not start yelling at her. With a last look at Mona, who surprisingly kept sleeping all soundly as if nothing was going on around her, he turned around, leaving his mother behind, to head over to the kitchen.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
I have been waiting forever to write this chapter. One of the secenes in it was one of the first things I had in mind when first getting the idea for this story, a little over a year ago. It's incredible now, that I finally got that out of my head and wrote it down to share with you.  
However, I'm not really sure what to make of it...if it actually turned out quite as I had imagined it...I still really enjoyed writing this because it's so cute and I hope you enjoy reading it :)  
There are only 3 more chapters planned after this, so I am already looking forward to the next story I want to write...hopefully there will be a little less drama then, but surely, it will not be that extremely sad and tragical...I'm really looking forward already to get to start writing it!

The past night had been quite a rough one, with Mona keeping them up a lot, ripping them all out of sleep on multiple occasions. The first time, Keith had to carry her around in the living room, rocking her in his arms, for almost half an hour until she finally quieted down and fell back asleep. The last time she startled them, wailing and screaming, had been at shortly before 5am and Mick had to change her nappy then. Fortunately, after that, everything had been quiet and they had been able to get some rest after all. 

He didn't know what time it was when he slowly started waking up, but he was glad to notice that Mona seemed to still be asleep, and so was Keith. He had an arm draped over Mick, spooning him, their legs entwined and it felt amazingly enjoyable. Waking up like this was quite nice and agreeable and he didn't mind getting used to it. Still sleepy, he could feel Keith breathing evenly, so Mick nuzzled his face back against the pillow, letting himself get engulfed by the warm, comfortable feeling of another round of sleep. 

When he next opened his eyes, it was due to Mona being somewhat restless. Carefully, he entangled himself from Keith's embrace and rolled out of bed, checking in on Mona. 

"Hey, baby...what's going on, you're already up, sweet girl?", he quietly whispered to his daughter, picking her up to leave the room and let Keith sleep in peace. 

"What's up with you, little one? You hungry?", he guessed, pressing her against his chest as he walked over to the kitchen. Mona whined a little, wriggling around in his arms. 

"Yeah, I'm gonna make you some food, okay?", he kept talking to his daughter as he put her down into her baby chair in order to open the fridge and look for her pap. 

In the end, he could only feed Mona two small spoons full of carrot mash before she didn't like any more and started yawning instead.

"Oh, you're still tired, aren't you, baby girl?", Mick cooed at her, before wiping her mouth and then picking her up, taking her into his arms again. "Hmm, you gotta be tired, sweety, you've been keeping us up all night…", he mumbled, stifling a yawn himself. A lock at the clock on the wall told him that it was only about 8:15am. And since it was a Sunday, he decided that it would be completely fine to just lie down again once Mona had fallen back asleep. 

Fortunately, it only took a little while until Mona was sleeping all sound and after he had laid her down into her crib, he slid back into bed himself. While settling down, pulling the blanket over himself, he noticed Keith stirring awake. 

"Hey, morning. Did I wake you?", he quietly asked as Keith was focussing his sleepy eyes on him. His hair was completely messed up and he looked exactly how Mick felt - not too well rested. 

"Morning...what's going on?", Keith returned, blinking against the light. 

"Oh, I just checked on Mona, fed her a little, but then she fell back asleep. She seems pretty exhausted", Mick told him. 

"I don't doubt that after last night…", Keith mumbled, yawning. He seemed quite exhausted, either. 

"Yeah, that's why I'm lying back down...just for a bit ..it's only 8:30am and it's Sunday…", Mick mentioned and Keith nodded. 

"Hmm..seems like a great idea...", he gave back, closing his eyes again. 

For a while, they kept lying side by side, as Keith seemed to have nodded off again. But him eventually turning onto his side gave away that he probably hadn't fallen back asleep yet, and neither had Mick. 

"Keith?", he whispered, unsure about whether he should disturb him because of something quite silly and mundane. 

"Hmm?", Keith made, not opening his eyes. 

"Earlier, it...it felt really nice...waking up and you holding me…", he dared to admit, feeling slightly pathetic for wanting, needing, Keith to hold him again. As if he feared he might not be able to find any rest otherwise. "Would you maybe...just for a little while…", he added, somewhat abashed, awkwardly waiting for Keith to reply. To his surprise, after another moment, Keith blinked his eyes open and gave him a warm smile. 

"Come here", is all he said, as he lifted up his arm and Mick rolled over, resting his back against Keith's chest so he could wrap his arm around him, holding him close. 

"Thanks", Mick whispered, already noticing how he got calmer. He didn't know what it was about lying there with Keith like this, but it was relaxing and endlessly soothing. All he perceived was Keith's warm body pressed against his own, the weight of his arm draped over Mick, their bare feet brushing against the other's. It was enough to ground him, to keep his mind in the here and now, instead of his thoughts drifting off to darker places. 

"It's feeling really nice holding you", Keith said in a soft voice, making Mick smile lightly. 

As Keith nuzzled his face against his neck, Mick let out a content little sigh, instinctively wrapping his hand around Keith's arm, holding him in place while Keith squeezed him a bit tighter against his chest. Wrapped up in each other, they gladly stayed lying in bed for another while. However, even like this, Mick couldn't fall back asleep again, at least not properly. And he was sure that Keith wasn't actually asleep, either, because his breathing was way too uneven. 

Feeling Keith's warm breath against his skin turned out to be oddly comforting. Unconsciously, he let his fingers dance over Keith's arm, only becoming aware of what he was doing as Keith slowly started running his own thumb across Mick's chest through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, drawing small patterns. Before his sleep deprived mind could properly process what was going on, other than this was feeling quite perfect, the next thing he realised was Keith pressing his lips against his neck in a tender kiss. Then, his whole body tensed up in shock, gripping Mick even tighter. For a second, Mick thought his heart had skipped a beat because he was so utterly perplexed. He almost forgot how to breathe for a moment. 

"I...I'm sorry, I didn't…", Keith stuttered then, abruptly letting go of Mick and rolling onto his back, away from him. Mick stayed lying on his side, not quite sure whether he had just imagined or dreamed things, but Keith's reaction told him otherwise. Not having Keith this close anymore, his own body seemed weirdly exposed. He almost felt cold, but he didn't know whether it was from the sudden lack of contact or because he was beyond bewildered. 

"I didn't mean to...I'm really sorry", he repeated as Mick slowly turned around. Keith ran a hand over his face, burying it underneath as if not looking at Mick meant to be able to avoid him. For a moment, Mick only stared at Keith, unable to form a reply, watching him tremble ever so slightly, figuring it was probably nerves. 

"Keith...", Mick said, looking for something, anything he could say. "It's...it's okay…", was the only thing he managed to get out eventually, because he was still too astounded to come up with anything else. 

"It was just...I don't know…", Keith tried to explain, but only shook his head as apparently he couldn't find the proper words to express himself, either.

"Hey...I don't mind", Mick assured him, noticing that he actually meant it and didn't just say so to make Keith feel less abashed about himself. 

It had only been a little peck after all. And they both were still quite sleepy after the last night. As his initial state of shock was fading, Mick wanted to make sure that Keith didn't feel bad about getting a little too comfortable with him. While he certainly still was surprised, he didn't think there was anything wrong with it. He didn't want things between them getting awkward just because of an innocent little gesture that they both hadn't anticipated.

"You...you don't?", Keith asked, sounding almost hopeful as if he had been fearing a worse reaction from Mick. 

As if he had been expecting him to yell and tell him to sod off. But nothing would be further from Mick than losing his poise over something rather benign that had happened in a quite vulnerable and unconscious state. They had still been drowsy, halfway asleep. Now, however, it was guaranteed that they both were completely awake. 

"Don't worry, it's fine", he meant, giving him a little smile in reassurance. Nothing bad had happened. Mick was sure that the sooner they continued carrying on as usual, the faster the awkwardness would dissolve. "You wanna make pancakes for breakfast?", he added then, observing how Keith's features visibly relaxed and lit up. 

"Yeah, sure", he gave back, managing to return Mick's smile. 

"When do you have to leave for school?", Keith asked as they were still lying in bed on Wednesday morning. It had been only a few days since he accidentally had gotten too close with Mick and ended up kissing his neck. Even despite Mick assuring him that he didn't mind, Keith still hadn't been able to simply forget about it. Not because he was still embarrassed about having a weak moment, but because he secretly wished he could do it again. Which was utterly confusing, to say the least.

"There's still a bit of time...I can stay lying here with you for another half an hour or so", Mick said, a little smile on his lips. They were lying face to face, their legs brushing against each other's. Mona thankfully had calmed down again earlier, once Keith had given her a little to drink from her bottle. But obviously, they both couldn't fall back to sleep again after. 

"Hmm", Keith murmurmed, still feeling only half awake. 

"I just have a couple of hours in the morning and will be back for lunch. Do you want me to grab something on the way home? Pizza?", Mick suggested good-naturedly. 

"That would be nice…", he agreed, yawning. 

"You're still so sleepy", Mick chuckled and Keith felt a smile tugging at his lips as he blinked to keep his eyes open, focussing on Mick. 

He looked quite endearing with his tousled hair and that sweet smile on his face. In hindsight, there was no way to tell when Keith had started having thoughts like these about Mick. He'd only actively realised so for the first time, these few days ago, when lying there with him hadn't been quite enough and he needed Mick closer, needed to touch and caress him. He wasn't even rudimentary sure what to make of this, what to make of his own feelings and behaviour. Because he didn't understand where it was coming from and what it meant exactly. It seemed almost ludicrous, but when taking into account everything he could and would admit to himself about his own emotions, Keith was starting to believe that he was fancying Mick. 

But he didn't dare to let his thoughts drift there for too long because it made him get all antsy and, frankly, freaked him out more than he could handle. So he just chose to not think too much and take things as they came. He didn't want to overthink everything, not just because it made him nervous, but also because he didn't want Mick to panic. Things between them needed to stay as they were. Everything was amazingly fine and perfect at the moment. Keith was feeling better than he had in an eternity and he could see that Mick was doing way better as well compared to just a few weeks ago. He couldn't simply go and ruin this for them by over-analysing his feelings. It probably would hurt them both in the end. And certainly, it would be a huge setback for whatever progress both of them had made during the past months. 

"What?", Mick smirked and now it was Keith who ended up chuckling. He buried his face against the pillow for a moment because he had to stop staring at Mick's eyes. Had to stop himself from drowning in them, had to stop himself from getting all but mesmerised by the fact that his left eye was both blue and brown. A darker spot in the otherwise clear blue that he'd only just noticed for the first time because they were lying this incredibly close to each other. 

"Nothing…", he meant, biting his bottom lip. "I just...your eyes…", he got out and kept searching for an adequate description that didn't sound soppy or silly. Eventually, he ended up averting his gaze because Mick's eyes kept distracting him too much. 

"What about my eyes?", Mick asked, all but curiously. 

"They're quite enthralling", Keith returned, feeling himself blush upon his choice of words. "I...I mean…", he stammered, trying to explain himself without coming across as completely dumb. "Cause...you know...the left one's...blue and brown...", he managed to say, still not able to look back at Mick. 

"Thanks, I guess…", Mick replied, he was chuckling lightly, but sounded a tad shy. "Keith?", he added then, carefully, prompting him to focus his gaze back on him. 

"Yeah?"

"What...uh...do you think we should be...talking? About what's going on?", Mick asked and Keith felt as if someone had squeezed all the air out of his lungs as he tried very hard not to freak out. This surely was about Sunday morning. It had to be. 

"What do you mean?", Keith gave back, acting all nonchalantly while panic was rising up inside of him. 

"Charlie thinks you sleeping in my bed is weird...and when my mum was here two weeks ago, she said we're behaving like a married couple…", Mick admitted, he sounded quite abashed. 

"She did?", Keith inquired, his voice sounding odd to his own ears. 

"Yeah…", Mick nodded slightly. 

"Oh…", he made, not sure what to return to this. "Is that bad?", he eventually wanted to know as his heart was thudding hard against his ribs. 

"I don't care what they're thinking, it doesn't matter...but is this okay for you?", Mick said, carefully studying his face. Keith wished he could hide behind a pillow because he couldn't stand Mick looking at him like that. 

"Hmm?", he only made, because he didn't quite know what Mick was onto. 

"Us living like that…", he quietly stated. 

"This, here...you and Mona...it's the best thing that happened to me in years, Mick. You letting me stay here...us living together, raising Mona…it's a really good thing we got going", Keith pointed out, adamant about making sure Mick understood how much he cared and that he was completely down for this. 

"I just...I want to keep doing this, you know...and we don't...we don't have to talk too much about what we're doing, if you don't want to...as long as it's...it's all nice like this", Mick explained, the basfulness still hadn't left his voice.

"I want to keep doing this too...being around you makes me feel good...better...I'm feeling so much better when I'm with you", Keith admitted, giving him a little encouraging smile to let him know that everything was fine. 

"Me too...I really like how things are...with you taking care of Mona when I'm away...and everything...this…", Mick agreed, slightly smiling back at him. 

"This…?"

"Being able to lie here with you like this", Mick clarified, and the tender look in his eyes made Keith almost get light headed. He knew he absolutely couldn't be feeling like this but it was quite tough to brace himself, when he was still tired, and when he felt so completely comfortable, and when Mick was all adorable like that. 

"Yeah I...I kinda really like that too", he gave back coyly, nodding, trying to banish his thoughts. 

"Good...I just...wanted to say something, you know...I kept feeling weird…", Mick said, his features seeming more relaxed now. 

"Why?", Keith asked, getting anxious once more, fearing this might be about the kiss after all. 

"Because of what my mum said…", Mick sighed. 

"That we're...behaving like a married couple?"

"She asked me how long I wanna keep doing this...living with you like this...told me I needed to look for another woman to take care of Mona...", he trailed off, grimacing. 

"Oh…", Keith breathed out in surprise. "What...what did you say?", he dared to ask, not quite sure whether he wanted to hear. 

"I don't want another woman…", Mick told him and Keith hated himself for how relieved he felt at these words. He shouldn't be feeling any of this. This wasn't alright in the slightest. And he wasn't even taking into account that Mick was a bloke. Rather the much more important fact that Mick was still grieving about Tessa, and that he absolutely couldn't mess this up in any way. He needed Mick in his life too badly and feared that if he lost him, it would send him straight back to taking drugs. 

"I can take care of Mona...we can, you and I. We're doing quite well, I think...so, I don't need anyone else...but you", Mick quietly told him, the look in his eyes was soft, almost affectionate, and Keith felt something in his chest swell with fondness. He didn't have the appropriate words to describe how profoundly Mick's honesty was touching him. But what he clearly was aware of was that under no circumstances could he compromise this ineffably beautiful connection they were sharing by letting himself get carried away by his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updating this because I forgot to mention so earlier: recently I noticed that Mick's left eye is actually blue and brown...you just never really notice because most close-up pics of him are either b+w, or from photo sessions that were photoshopped afterwards, or at a weird angle so you cannot see it...but there are some pics where it actually becomes apparent...and I thought this would be a nice little thing to add here^^


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
happy Easter! Totally wanted to post this new chapter today as something for you to read over the holidays :)  
Some stuff I wrote here might be the cheesiest shit I ever wrote but I hope you enjoy it xD

Keith hadn't seen his therapist anymore in weeks because there was only a certain amount of therapy sessions the insurance would cover for. Instead, when things got too unbearable, when he could barely stand the graving, he'd drop by NA meetings. Lately, despite being quite busy taking care of Mona and despite being quite happy about how living with Mick turned out, he'd found himself at a meeting about once every week. Mostly, it wasn't because he hardly could keep his mind off getting a hit, but rather because he needed this as a reminder to keep his hands off of that stuff. 

That day, he was sitting on a chair in the back of the room, listening as a new attendee was just introducing herself, sharing her story. He didn't even notice the door open when someone else stepped inside the room, being a little late. Only as the latecomer stopped besides him, ready to take the seat next to him, Keith looked up to shoot him a quick look and he almost forgot how to breathe in astonishment. 

"Keith?", the other man all but exclaimed in surprise, his face looking as baffled as Keith felt himself.

"Ronnie, what…?", he got out in utter perplexity, barely able to form words, let alone a coherent sentence. 

His old friend was the last person he'd expected to see at this meeting. He hadn't heard of him in months, mostly because he'd stayed clear off their old places as part of his rehabilitation. Actually, he hadn't spent too many thoughts about Ronnie at all because when he did, he only ended up thinking about drugs as well. Apart from playing music, doing drugs together, was what had connected them for years. 

"I thought you were dead! You bloody wanker, I thought you were bloody dead!", Ronnie started yelling at him in the next moment, drawing everyone's attention.

"Calm the fuck down, Ron, I'm gonna explain", Keith tried to appease him, lifting up his hands in an apologetic gesture because Ronnie looked like he might actually jump at him and punch him. 

"Are you lads okay?", an older man sitting in front of Keith wanted to know. He'd turned around, just as almost everybody else in the room, as soon as Ronnie started yelling. 

"That bloody bastard OD'd and I thought I watched him die…", Ronnie went on, still very much exasperated, apparently not able to get a grip on himself. 

"Would you maybe try calming down? People here are trying to share", a middle-aged woman reminded him. 

"Do you wanna share next?", the older man prompted. 

"No, I think we should…let's go outside for a moment", Keith suggested to Ronnie, getting up, because he didn't want to be as rude as to disrupt the woman speaking in the front any more than they already had. 

"I thought you were dead", Ronnie repeated, once they'd left the building, in a calmer manner this time. 

"I kinda feared the same about you", Keith admitted, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, offering one to Ronnie. They both could really need a smoke right now. 

"Where have you been? Why did you never drop by?", Ronnie inquired, regarding him reproachfully after taking a long drag. 

"I went to rehab after I OD'd in April...have been doing way better since then", Keith let him know, dragging on his cigarette. "Have you quit as well?", he added then. 

"Ah...trying to…", Ronnie shrugged, still staring at him as if he couldn't believe Keith was actually standing in front of him.

"How come?", he wanted to know, observing Ronnie curiously.

"My girlfriend...she died...a couple weeks back. And I thought you were gone too...and...I just...I didn't wanna be the next", Ronnie told him between some more drags on his cigarette. He sounded agitated and seeing him like that, hearing this, made Keith feel remorse. 

"I'm sorry, mate...but you're doing the right thing. You don't need that shit anymore...having your head clear is so much better", he meant, trying his best to be encouraging. "And I'm also sorry for never showing up...but it was for the best like that", he added apologetically. Ronnie only hummed in agreement before they both turned quiet for a while, just smoking in silence. 

"What are you doing? Did you get a new job?", Ronnie asked after some moments, curiously regarding him as well. 

"I uh...I babysit", Keith let him know. 

"You what?", Ronnie frowned as if he hadn't understood him correctly. 

"I...I take care of my mate's daughter...I'm kinda living with them. His wife died", Keith explained. 

"Well, shit...who's that guy?", Ronnie asked, flicking his cigarette away. 

"I met him at the hospital...they were in a car crash...she died, but the baby lived. So...he needed someone to help him out...and I had nothing to do…", he told him. 

'So...you're living with some guy and are taking care of his kid? That's your job?", Ronnie asked as if he didn't quite believe him. 

"I like it...I really do. Helps me keeping my shit together as well", Keith said, feeling like he needed to justify his choices in front of his old mate who still observed him with a puzzled look on his face.

"What about playing music?", Ronnie wanted to know almost incredulously. 

"Oh, come on, Ron. You know that's just daydreams…", Keith deflected because he didn't want to get pulled into that rabbithole once again. 

"Pat and the lads are playing gigs two or three times a week now. Just ran into him the other day. Said they were playing at the Troubadour this Saturday", Ronnie mentioned, telling him of one of their mutual friends whom they used to jam with for years. 

"Really?", Keith frowned in surprise because, obviously, playing at a location like the Troubadour was one hell of a chance for an aspiring band. 

"Yeah, they got a half an hour slot before the main acts", Ronnie confirmed. 

"Wow...you gonna go there?", Keith wanted to know, actually considering going there as well. 

"Sure, you coming too?"

"Why not...can I bring Mick if we find someone to look after Mona?", Keith wondered, figuring that it might be a nice change going to a gig together. 

"The guy you're living with?"

"Yeah…", he nodded. 

"I don't see why not", Ronnie meant, grinning at him and Keith couldn't do anything else but mirror his grin.

"Let's go back inside?", Keith suggested then, flipping the stump of his cigarette away. 

"Hey...your feet are cold", Mick sleepily complained as Keith slipped into bed next to him, accidentally brushing his feet.

"Sorry...it's cold outside", he muttered but couldn't suppress a chuckle. "Aren't you sleeping yet?", he inquired because he was surprised to find him still awake, at shortly before 1am. 

"Mona woke up a little while ago, she needed something to drink", Mick told him as he rolled around, facing him in the dark. About a week ago, or so, they had started to actually put Mona down to sleep in her baby bed in her nursery. Nearly half a year old by now, she'd gotten almost too big for her crib. They were using a baby phone to monitor her and so far it was working out quite well. 

"She fell asleep again?", Keith wanted to know. 

"Yeah, luckily...how was the gig?", Mick returned. 

"Amazing, it was great seeing the lads again", he mentioned. "Pity you couldn't come, too…", he added, meaning it. Of course, everyone they knew already did have plans for that night and they couldn't find someone to look after Mona on such short notice. Instead of taking Mick along to the gig, introducing him to his friends, Keith had gone by himself. 

"Maybe next time", Mick said and Keith nodded, before realising that it was too dark for Mick to see. 

"Yeah...actually Pat asked me to jam together...said something about wanting to form another group. They need another guitar player…", Keith told him, not able to hold back his excitement about it. 

His old friend had actually mentioned that he was looking into starting another project, after he met some bloke who was apparently a quite amazing drummer. Obviously, Ronnie was on board as well and so it wasn't even a question for Keith to agree to coming around and jamming with them. At least he'd be able to play guitar again and hang out with his mates. Whether this time it might actually end up in them scoring gigs was another pair of shoes, but considering that by now Pat knew a lot of people and had great connections, it actually seemed quite promising. Nevertheless, Keith reminded himself not to get his hopes up too much about it. All that mattered for now was that he could play guitar with his mates. 

"They want you?"

"Seems so" , Keith grinned, his excitement clearly audible in his voice. 

"That sounds great, I'm happy for you", Mick affirmed him and Keith could hear that he was smiling. 

"Yeah, I'm really happy too, and looking forward to playing with the guys again", he confirmed, feeling really giddy. And because he didn't know what else to do with himself, being this excited, reflexively, he draped an arm over Mick, pulling him closer into an embrace. 

"I can see that", Mick chuckled, but it sounded a tad awkward, as he was so closely pressed against Keith. 

Only then did Keith realise that he'd acted almost instinctively and it made him get somewhat flustered. After the conversation they'd had a couple weeks back following his small peck, this hadn't been the first time where Keith had wanted to spontaneously get closer to Mick, embrace him or caress him. But it was the first time, he'd given in to the urge and actually hugged him tightly against his chest, consciously and completely unasked. Usually, Mick would very sheepishly ask him if Keith could hug him or hold him because he needed some comforting and cheering up. And Keith would gladly oblige each time, knowing quite well that he shouldn't be feeling this giddy about it, that he shouldn't have any of these feelings for Mick. That he shouldn't be thinking about his eyes or his smile, that he shouldn't be missing him when he was at school, teaching, that he shouldn't be yearning to hug him or touch him, that he shouldn't be wondering how it would feel like, if he leaned in just a little closer, to kiss him. Properly, not just a quick peck to his neck. 

The first time he'd actively caught himself having these thoughts, Keith had been so overwhelmed and confused that he literally left a baffled Mick sitting alone in the living room after dinner, jogging to his next NA meeting just to get his head straight again. He'd spent a lot of time just running off these past weeks, roaming the streets, and Mick had already asked him in worry whether he had to think about drugs this often. Mostly, it was Mick whom Keith had on his mind, though, thinking about drugs only was consequential because he feared it might be the only way to get rid of these thoughts. However, he was clearly aware that it would only be a momentary relief and ultimately wouldn't help him not feeling this way about Mick anymore. 

Obviously, Keith couldn't tell him any of that. At least, he hadn't been able to tell him yet because he didn't have the guts to. He simply was too scared. But on the other hand, Mick had been nothing but honest with him so far and it actually bothered Keith letting him believe he was doing worse again, when actually he was mostly happy because of Mick. At least when he didn't make himself freak out by thinking about kissing him. 

"Sorry, I just...I wasn't thinking...I was just so happy...and I wanted to hold you. Is this okay?", he gave back, embarrassed about himself, skidding away from Mick a little bit, trying to banish these thoughts and feelings about him. But it was to no avail. Probably he should simply dare it and finally tell him. Maybe then they could talk it all out like they'd done before, and be good again. Maybe then he could finally stop running away each time he felt something he was sure he wasn't supposed to feel. 

"It's okay, I'm glad you're happy, Keith", Mick replied, his voice all soft and even though he couldn't really see more than his silhouette, Keith could very well imagine his little smile. 

"I'm...I'm a bit confused, actually…", Keith dared to admit, biting his lip, not sure yet whether it was a good idea to be this honest about his feelings. 

"Why?", Mick wanted to know and Keith sighed, letting go of him to roll over and switch on the bedside lamp. They should have a proper talk about that, not just some hushed words in the dark. 

"Cause of how I'm feeling about you…", he mumbled, his gaze directed anywhere but at Mick as he settled back, leaning against the headboard of the bed. 

"How...uh...how are you feeling about me?", Mick inquired, uncertain, as he sat up as well, switching on his bedside lamp too. 

"I...I'm not quite sure, but…", he started, disrupting himself because now was his last chance to back-paddle. To say that it wasn't that important after all and that he was just tired and needed some rest. However, he felt just about brave enough right then, having downed some beer at the pub. Still far from being drunk, or even just remotely tipsy, the alcohol made him feel confident enough. At least he thought so. 

"But?", Mick prompted him, looking at him expectantly as Keith felt his heart heavily thumping against his ribs. 

"I...I feel like...I feel like I'm falling in love with you, Mick", he eventually worked up the courage to confess, biting his lip, awkwardly waiting for Mick to react as his heart threatened to jump out of his chest. He couldn't tell when he'd last been this nervous and agitated, and actually wished he could have a smoke right then. But he'd promised Mick not to do so inside, and getting up to go to the balcony obviously wasn't an option at all. He couldn't run once more. 

"Keith…", Mick got out after a moment of complete silence, it was barely more than a whisper, and he stared at him out of big eyes, apparently not sure what to say. 

"I'm sorry...you don't...you don't have to say anything. I don't know. It's okay the way it is now. Nothing has to change", Keith quickly added, blushing and trying not to freak out.

Thinking he probably had ruined everything for good now. Fearing that Mick would tell him to leave, leave him be, because he didn't want him like that. Probably Keith should have kept his mouth shut instead of being this dumb and desperate. 

"You sure?", was all Mick finally returned, still wide-eyed, seemingly at a total loss for words. Keith had no clue whether this was a good or a bad sign but it made him get more nervous than he already was. 

"Yeah, we're friends, taking care of Mona, right? Things are great as they are, everything can just stay that way...don't even remember that I said anything. It's okay, it really is...", Keith started rambling, wishing that he actually never said a thing. Everything could have stayed as it was, everything was perfect as it was. But now he had probably compromised that, and there was no taking back his words. He had absolutely no clue what to do if Mick took this in a poor way. He wasn't prepared for what had become his life during these past months to end this abruptly. But it would, if Mick reacted badly.

"No, I mean...are you sure about...falling in love?", Mick quietly said, the look in his eyes was unfathomable and Keith still couldn't decide whether Mick would end up telling him to sod off or not. He took a deep breath, figuring that now it might be all in or nothing. Probably there was no way he could make things even worse, he already might have messed everything up, so he could just as well be completely honest with Mick. 

"I...I think so...I'm feeling like it. I just can't stop thinking about you, Mick…about how badly I want to hug you, or touch you...And I just like you so bloody much. I haven't felt that way in forever. Being with you makes me so bloody happy. Just spending time with you, getting to know you more every day...I'm finally happy again, Mick", he admitted, coyly, and not without his cheeks flushing. 

"Look, Keith…", Mick started replying and Keith braced himself, not ready to have his whole life shattered once again. 

"I really like you, too. So much. You've become one of the most important people in my life…and since you're around, I've started feeling happier, too...I don't know what I'd do without you...", Mick told him and it wasn't at all what Keith had expected to hear. He'd almost been prepared for a much harsher rebuff. Mick, however, apparently wanted to let him down gently. At least it seemed like it. 

"But you're not feeling like this...?", he dared to inquire. It was alright. He would be able to handle this. If only they could stay friends. 

"No, that's not what I meant to say...I...I really do like you, Keith...quite a lot. But I...I cannot think about anyone like that...yet", Mick explained and Keith still was waiting for the final blow. "It's also not about you being a bloke…I enjoy spending time with you so much, Keith. I love the way I'm feeling when I'm around you...I like when you're holding me. That's why...that's why I always keep asking you to...because I...I really like that...", Mick quietly admitted and Keith could see his cheeks flushing, even in the warm orange light of the bedside lamps. 

"You do?", was all he managed to return because he was utterly confused about Mick's explanation. It wasn't at all what he had been bracing himself for. It wasn't the hurtful rejection he was dreading. It wasn't Mick yelling at him to fuck off and leave him alone. Rather, it was Mick telling him almost exactly what he could only have dreamed of hearing, and yet, it still wasn't enough to reassure him completely.

"Very much so…", Mick confessed, ducking his head as a coy smile was gracing his lips. 

"What is it, then?", Keith asked, because he didn't quite understand and needed to know. Now that he'd started this conversation, he was committed to lead it to an end. 

"Tessa barely has been gone for half a year...I cannot...feel about you in any way ...without thinking...without feeling I'm doing her wrong. Allowing these feelings for you...being with you like that...it would feel like cheating on her...and I cannot get myself to do that", Mick tried to explain and Keith actually got him. It was completely reasonable. Mick had suffered the most tragic loss, it had traumatised him and still pained him a lot. It was more than understandable that he wasn't ready for anything new yet. 

"Of course, I understand that, Mick. Don't worry about it...I'll get around...it's fine", he assured him, actually starting to feel bad that he hadn't really contemplated this fact more. Obviously, Mick wasn't ready. Probably, Keith shouldn't have told him after all. 

"I love the way you're treating me, and Mona. You're so sweet with her...you're like another dad for her, you know that?", Mick said after a moment, the look in his eyes was all gentle, loving almost, and Keith could barely stand when he kept looking at him like that.

"Mick, stop, you're gonna make me cry...", was all he could reply with because he was so touched by these words that it almost rendered him speechless. 

"It's true, you've been there with us from the beginning. You've always been there...and I'm...I feel flattered that you're feeling about me that way, Keith...it's just that...I cannot...", he meant, breaking off in the end, letting out a little sigh. 

"Okay", Keith only answered because he still was too touched by Mick's prior statement. He nodded lightly, but apparently Mick took it the wrong way, because he asked:

"Are you mad at me?"

"I never could be...not for that", Keith clarified, holding his gaze, trying to make sure Mick knew he meant what he said. 

"Are we good, then?", Mick sheepishly asked and Keith eagerly nodded. 

"Yeah."

"I'm really so sorry, Keith...", Mick apologised, but there was no need to be. Keith understood. He really did. Even though he had witnessed Mick learning how to deal with his grief over the past months, it was painfully obvious that on some especially bad days, he still barely was able to keep his sadness at bay. Obviously, he needed more time to process. 

"Don't be, I'm okay", Keith said and he meant it. As long as they were alright and could go on as they used to, being friends, then Keith would be fine. Not all was lost like that. And maybe, with a little time, Mick even would be ready for something more. Keith truly wished and hoped that when time came, he could be that something, someone, more for Mick. Until then, he'd be patient and supportive as he'd been all along. Because he was certain that sticking around, being there for Mick as his friend, probably was what they both most needed now. 

"I wish I could tell you something else, I don't mean to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable...but I...just can't feel that way about you...not yet", Mick muttered, biting his bottom lip. 

"It's fine, really...I understand. You loved her...she's Mona's mum after all…I'll be alright, don't worry", Keith explained again. "And I also didn't mean to...to make this awkward...I just want things to stay as they are", he added, hoping they would be alright after being this honest with each other. 

"You didn't do anything wrong. Thanks for telling me, Keith...I'm so glad you did", Mick meant, smiling in encouragement. 

"It's...it's the reason why recently I've been running off all the time...cause I didn't know how to tell you…", he eventually admitted, staring down onto his own hands. 

"You can tell me anything, Keith", Mick replied, stretching out his hand to gently squeeze Keith's arm. "I want to be there for you like you're there for me too", he said, giving him a sweet little smile as Keith looked up to meet his eyes. 

"Thanks…I don't know what to say, Mick...", Keith got out, completely overwhelmed by his feelings. 

If he had been uncertain about it before, by admitting it out aloud he was fairly certain now it was true. He was falling in love with Mick. And even though Mick wasn't in any place to return his feelings like this yet, Keith didn't feel like he'd been turned down. On the contrary, everything that Mick had told him made him hopeful, asserted him that they were going to be fine. 

"It's alright", he assured him. For a moment, they silently kept holding each other's gaze. Keith knew that he would have to wait for Mick, but he would gladly do so because he was sure that he was definitely worth it. 

"So...just...let's keep doing what we're doing?", he finally said, looking at Mick expectantly, hopeful. 

"Yeah…", Mick mumbled back, but to Keith's astonishment, his voice suddenly sounded choked. 

"Hey...are you okay?", he asked him, not without worry. 

"Hmm...it was just...I started thinking about Tessa…cause I…", Mick stammered, his voice shaking, breaking in the end. 

"Do you wanna talk about it?", Keith carefully inquired, but Mick only shook his head. 

"No...I can't now…" 

"I'm sorry...I didn't intend to bring this all up again for you to go through…", Keith apologised, starting to feel quite impossible for confronting Mick with his feelings like he did when it was obvious that he wasn't over losing Tessa yet. 

"I'll be okay…", Mick meant, rubbing the tears out of his eyes before stifling a yawn.

"You wanna lie down and sleep?", Keith asked and Mick nodded in reply, turning off the lamp on his side. He didn't lie down, though, but kept gazing at Keith, the look on his face indecisive. 

"I...I probably shouldn't be asking that of you right now but…", he started, once more worrying his bottom lip. "Can you...would it be alright for you to hold me again?", he eventually got out, without directly looking at Keith. 

"Of course...it's fine...", Keith assured him, giving him an uplifting smile before switching off his bedside lamp as well. Then he laid down on his side, waiting for Mick to do the same.

"Thanks", he mumbled as he snuggled up close to him and Keith wrapped his arm around him almost protectively, hugging him from behind. "You're so sweet with me...", Mick whispered. And as he held onto Keith's hand with his own, softly squeezing it, a content little smile spread on Keith's face, before he closed his eyes, nuzzling his face against Mick's neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just fyi, some little rock music history...the Troubadour in London is the original Troubadour club. The one in LA where Elton John was playing his first real gigs at basically is a copy of that. The one in London is the place where e.g. Jimi Hendrix used to play in the 60s and where John Lennon used to hang out, seeing a wall painting there that he'd take as inspiration for the cover of one of his albums. There is a whole room dedicated to Bob Dylan and also Charlie played there before he started playing with Alexis Korner's Blues Incorporated.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
this is the second to last chapter. I cannot believe I'm almost through with this story. It means so fucking much to me and eventually coming to an end is always a bit tough for a writer, but with that one especially. This chapter was supposed to have four scenes but I decided to only write these three in the end because I liked how it turned out and didn't want to add anything more. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy this, it was quite hard to write, especially the last scene.

Mick was staring down onto the almost blank paper in front of him. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his small notebook perched on the bedside table, his hand with the pen hovering above the white space. Since a couple of months, he'd been writing some kind of diary, addressing its entries to Tessa. It had been his therapist's idea back when Mick still had been haunted by nightmares almost every single time he closed his eyes. He'd suggested for Mick to write down all the things he wanted to tell Tessa, whether it be something he'd always wanted to let her know but didn't get the chance to anymore before the accident, or whether it be something from his day to day life with Mona. In the beginning, Mick had noted down lengthy letters to his late fiancé almost every single day. Over time, his entries had gotten less frequent, but he would still always pick up the little notebook whenever he felt the need to put down his thoughts and feelings. With no chance to ever talk to Tessa again in person, and robbed of the opportunity to visit her grave, Mick figured this was the next best thing he could get. And mostly he felt like it actually helped, at least he always felt a little more relieved after writing a new entry. 

This day, he was still undecided how exactly to put into words what he wanted to let her know. It was a delicate matter, something he didn't dare yet to confront Charlie or Ian with. He would talk about it to Keith, eventually, he would have to, because it was concerning him. But first, he needed to let Tessa know, because it was concerning her, too. At least Mick felt that it did, in some way. 

_"My dear, there is something I need to tell you, but I don't quite know how…"_

These were the only words he'd written down so far. Tapping the pen against the paper, he closed his eyes, recalling the memory of his beautiful fiancé and what she would have replied if he had uttered these lines to her face. Eventually, he let out a small sigh, knowing that Tessa would have asked him to simply tell her, assuring him that it was alright. So he stopped his fidgeting with the pen and started to pour his heart out onto the empty page. Telling her all about Keith: how they first met, how Keith had been helping him out with Mona this whole time, how wonderful he was with her. That he moved in with them a while ago, and that he had supported Mick through everything. That he was amazingly funny and caring, and oh so inspiring. That Mick couldn't have managed to keep going without him. That Keith was having feelings for him. And that he had started falling in love with Keith as well. 

Ever since their late night talk, confessing their thoughts and feelings to each other, their relationship had started to change slowly but gradually. They already had been quite close and really fond of each other before, but during the past weeks, they'd grown incredibly comfortable and open with each other. It was like they had started evolving into something more. Whatever this was. Mick wasn't entirely sure of it yet. However, he felt happy and Keith seemed to be as well. It was the small things in their behaviour towards each other that had become more considerate, more gentle, and Mick enjoyed everything about it. By now, he wasn't abashed anymore about asking Keith to hug him. Instead he would simply snuggle up against him in bed or on the couch and Keith would happily let him, engulfing him in his arms. By now, getting this close to Keith wasn't accompanied anymore by the odd little feeling of guilt and rightfulness. Rather, Mick would ponder that there was no way for something feeling this amazingly perfect to actually be wrong. 

_"There is no way I could ever forget you, my dear. But I feel that I want to, need to, start moving on now. Do you think it is alright to try moving on, love?" _

In his mind, he was imagining Tessa, smiling at him, it was a somewhat sad smile. But the look she gave him was unwavering, not tolerating any objection, before she simply nodded. As Mick opened his eyes, he let out a long breath that he hadn't even realised he kept holding. Writing this all down, getting it off his chest, felt immensely freeing, comforting even. 

Mick knew with a certainty that Tessa would always stay a part of his life through Mona. As her mum, she'd always have a very special place in his heart and her memory would live on through their little daughter. What he also knew with a crushing certainty, was that Tessa was gone forever and would never come back, and the only thing left for him to do about it was to accept. Accept, because there was no way for him to change what had happened. This was something Keith had recently told him, a prayer they would say at his NA meetings. It was a quite simple, quite logical little saying, but only when truly contemplating it, its whole meaning and all the comfort and hope it brought actually became obvious to him. Since he couldn't change the past, it was no good dwelling on it, pondering about it the whole time. The only thing he could change, what he could actively influence, was the future. He was aware it would be a future where Tessa would only still be present in his memories, not really with him any longer. But he hoped that instead, it could be a future with Keith in it. 

Closing his notebook, Mick felt as content as he hadn't been in an eternity. He still had a little trouble completely embracing the thought, but deep down he was certain that Tessa would want for him to be happy again eventually. Because he would want the same for her. 

"What's going on with you and Keith?", Charlie asked him, not without suspicion in his voice, as he was driving Mick home in his car after choir practise. Instead of taking the tube as usual, Mick had asked Charlie for a ride, in order to finally be able to talk to him about Keith. Charlie, being his best friend, apparently had been sensing already that something was off, because Mick hadn't even mentioned Keith yet, he just told Charlie that he needed to talk to him. 

"What do you mean?", Mick asked back, instead of just jumping onto Charlie's assist. He was too freaked out to tell him right away, feeling that he needed to test the waters first. At least, Charlie had finally stopped being so wary about Keith all the time. They'd hung out together often enough by now for Charlie to realise that Keith was a great guy. 

"You're living together, he's sleeping in your bed, he's caring for your daughter, you're...you seem so close and…", Charlie summed it all up but then broke off, just as he slowed the car down in the stop and go of the vespertine rush hour. 

"And what?", Mick inquired, frowning, wondering whether it was a good idea after all to let Charlie know. He needed his support and not his doubt. 

"I see the way you're looking at each other...", Charlie commented and Mick almost forgot to breathe. Had Charlie already figured it out all along?

"And...?", he prompted him, feeling his heartbeat in his throat. 

"Do you...bloody hell, I can't believe I'm saying that…do you have feelings for him?", Charlie asked, carefully observing him as they continued to be stuck in traffic. 

"What if I did?", Mick gave back, making it seem rhetorical, although he actually meant it. He just wanted to check out his best friend's reaction first. 

"He's a lad", Charlie stated as if it wasn't obvious. 

Mick turned his gaze away from him for a moment, looking out of the car window, observing the break lights of the cars around them and the Christmas decoration in the streets. He didn't know if he could handle Charlie not supporting him. They'd known each other for many years. When Mick started studying music, Charlie had been a postgrad student, already working at a school part time. Mick had been the best man at his wedding and Charlie was supposed to be his...

"Wouldn't you be happy that I'm trying to move on?", Mick wanted to know, his chest contracting almost painfully at the thought that Charlie might not get it. That he wouldn't be on his side but let him drop instead. 

"Is that what you're doing?", Charlie said, eyeing him curiously as Mick eventually dared to look back at him. 

"I'm trying", he only repeated. 

"So...you and Keith…", Charlie started but didn't make it far. 

"He told me he's having feelings for me", Mick blurted out before his friend could go on. 

For a second or two, there was utter silence between them and it felt like both of them were holding their breath, observing the other, waiting for any reaction. 

"...and do you?", Charlie finally disrupted their hush. His tone was neutral, his expression as well. There was no sign of rejection or disgust. 

"It's...sometimes it's still tough...because of Tessa. I simply cannot forget her...I never will...l...", Mick started explaining, drifting off while he was searching for the proper words. 

"And you don't have to. She's Mona's mum", Charlie agreed with him. Mick simply nodded in reply. 

"I really do like him loads, Charlie...he's the best thing that ever could have happened to me after the accident…", he quietly confessed then, being completely honest. 

Charlie regarded him for a little while, as they still couldn't drive on. Mick couldn't tell what he was thinking, how he was taking the news, which made him get quite nervous.

"So...you want to be...with Keith?", Charlie eventually asked. He seemed calm as ever, and definitely wasn't judging him. As Mick realised this, he let out a long breath, nodding lightly. 

"I would love to be able to…", he admitted, feeling his cheeks flush. This was something he'd only wondered about so far, and written about in his notebook. Speaking these words out aloud let his thoughts and hopes appear more real all of a sudden. 

"But he's a lad", Charlie repeated, it almost sounded like a question now, as if he wasn't sure Mick did realise this fact. 

"I don't care about that, Charlie", Mick all but sighed. 

It didn't matter to him that Keith was a bloke. In fact, he figured that after Tessa, Keith probably was the only person he might be able to love again like that. He couldn't get himself to care for anybody else that way, but him. When looking at Keith, seeing his smile, observing the caring, loving way he interacted with Mona, Mick felt his chest swell with tenderness. Keith was a bloke, but he was the very best person he could ever have met under the given circumstances. And he couldn't imagine not being around him. In the beginning, he'd needed Keith for support with Mona and his household, because he barely could handle anything on his own. Then, Keith had become more of a moral support, always eager to cheer Mick up, even when Keith himself wasn't feeling at his best. Now, he was the only person he truly wanted, the one he could always lean on when he needed to, the one who managed to make him feel alive and happy again. It didn't make any difference to him that Keith was a lad. Because Mick only cared about and appreciated the wonderful person that he was.

"They used to put men into prison for that just a few years ago. You know that, Mick. And what about Mona?", Charlie wanted to know and Mick sighed anew, getting slightly frustrated. Of course, he knew. But as long as this stayed between them, everything would be alright. There was no need to go parading around, letting everybody know. 

"It's nobody's bloody business but ours what Keith and I are doing in our home, Charlie", he reminded him, giving him a stern look until Charlie eventually shrugged, apparently accepting. 

"And Mona is doing amazing, you've seen her just yesterday. Raising her by myself wouldn't be turning out even half as great as it does having Keith around to help me. He loves her like she's his own, Charlie, he's like another father for her. And we're doing whatever feels nice to try and be happy...and this...being this close with Keith, feels really bloody nice", Mick added, adamant to make his friend aware of this. 

"And are you? Happy?", Charlie simply questioned, apparently not sure what else to reply. 

"I'm happier...and he's the cause for it", Mick assured him. 

"Then I guess that's all that matters in the end", Charlie said and Mick was glad that he finally seemed to have gotten his head around this matter. 

"Do you think it's alright to move on? Sometimes I still feel like I'm doing wrong on Tessa", he muttered then. This actually still was his greatest concern. 

"She would want you to find happiness again, Mick. And if that's with Keith then...I guess that's what it is", Charlie reassured him and it made Mick smile. It was everything he had needed to hear from him. 

"Thanks, Charlie…", he meant, grateful that his best friend had turned out to be understanding and supportive after all. 

"Keith?", Mick eventually dared to ask while they were sitting on the carpet in the living room with Mona. It was about a week before Christmas and outside it was lightly snowing. The next day would be Keith's 31st birthday. They'd been stacking wooden toy blocks for a while and rolling back and forth a small yellow ball which Mona was eagerly grabbing for, babbling and giggling excitedly. 

"Hmm?", Keith made, happily watching the little one squishing the ball between her chubby hands. 

"Uh...there's...there's this Christmas concert. Of the school choir. Next week. Will you come with me?", Mick deflected eventually, asking him the next best thing coming to his mind because he chickened out at the last moment. For days, he'd been meaning to finally let Keith know how he felt about him. There was nothing he'd rather do than tell him that he requited his feelings, yet there was little he actually dreaded more. And he didn't even know why. There was no reason to be this stressed and antsy. After all, he already knew with a certainty that Keith was feeling the same way about him.

"You want me to?", Keith asked back, almost in surprise, lifting his gaze to focus on Mick instead of Mona.

"Yeah...I'd love for you to be there", Mick agreed, nodding as if to underline his statement.

"What about Mona?", Keith wanted to know, turning his attention back on their baby girl who was curiously pushing her ball against the toy blocks, making them tumble over. It made both of them chuckle as Mona frolically cooed and babbled. 

"Ooh, look what you did, sweety", Mick smiled, picking Mona up as she stretched her little arms out towards him, placing her onto his lap, letting her grab hold of his fingers. 

"It's in the afternoon, we can take her along", he replied to Keith who was observing him and Mona, smiling. 

"Sure, yeah...it will be nice going there together", he nodded in agreement. 

"Thanks", Mick mumbled, truly glad that Keith wanted to be there, but annoyed at himself for not finally telling him what was up. 

"Of course", Keith meant, giving him a little smile that made Mick's heart almost skip a beat. He was so endearing when he was smiling at him like that and there wasn't much Mick could do but return his smile with fondness. 

"Keith?", he started anew after a moment of silence where they'd both just observed Mona who was making them grin by pulling at Mick's thumb.

He was determined to go through with this now, he needed to finally let Keith know. Otherwise, he feared he might go crazy if he couldn't get this off his chest. He'd written it down in his notebook for Tessa. He'd told Charlie. Now he only needed the courage to confess to Keith, the one who actually mattered the most. 

"Yeah?", Keith prompted him, watching him curiously. 

"There's...there's something else…", he started, biting his lip. This was way harder than letting Charlie know. Even despite being certain that Keith felt the same way about him because he had told him so almost two months ago, Mick still couldn't control his nerves. The reason for his nerviness probably was the uncharted territory they were moving towards. There was no way to tell yet how their relationship would change once he admitted his feelings to Keith. 

"What is it?", Keith wanted to know, looking at him expectantly, as Mona started wriggling around in Mick's arms. 

"Mick? Are you alright?", he heard Keith ask, eventually ripping him out of his thoughts. 

Carefully, he put Mona back down onto the blanket, where she started crawling towards one of her cuddly toys, happily cooing. 

"It's just...I'm so bloody nervous ..", he admitted, trying to calm himself down by breathing evenly. His heart was still hammering against his ribs as if it wanted to jump out of his chest. 

"Why? There's no need to be. You know you can tell me anything, right?", Keith assured him, repeating what Mick himself had recently told him, giving him an encouraging smile. 

Of course, Mick knew. They had confessed almost anything to each other over these past few months. Mick wasn't sure when he had last been able to be this amazingly honest with someone. No matter what it was, they would always try to be there for each other, cheer each other up. They'd seen each other at their literal worst, had broken down in each other's arms, had tried to give one another hold during some of the hardest moments of their lives. Mick had seen Keith trembling and shaking, trying to keep fighting his addiction. Keith had found Mick drenched in tears, weeping about Tessa, countless times. It almost seemed like there was barely a single thing left they needed to be ashamed of or embarrassed about, because they'd witnessed it all. And it had brought them together even closer.

"I...I'm falling in love with you, too", Mick eventually confessed in a quiet voice. There was no need for him to keep deflecting or pretending. Not when he actually wanted Keith to know. With his heart heavily pounding, he waited for Keith's reaction almost anxiously. 

"You...you are?", Keith gave back completely astounded, staring at him wide-eyed as if he couldn't believe Mick's prior words. "I thought...I thought you weren't ready…", he added, flabbergasted and the confused expression on his face would have made Mick laugh in amusement if he hadn't still been that antsy. 

"I wasn't…when you told me...I wasn't ready then…", he stammered, a little thrown off by Keith's confusion, fearing that this might not be going as smoothly as hoped for. Then again, he didn't quite know what he had expected. 

"And now? What changed?", Keith wanted to know, still a little perplexed. 

"I want to try moving on…", Mick summed it up. "Tessa's gone...but you're right here and I...I haven't felt like this in forever. I want to be with you, Keith...eventually", he told him.

"Are you sure about that?", Keith asked, there was something like hope audible in his voice now and the look he was regarding him with was expectant. Mick simply nodded in agreement. 

"Can we just...go slowly...I like how everything has turned out so far between us...it feels really good this way...I always want it to be like that...and even better", he explained, nestling around on the carpet as he carefully observed Keith's expression. 

"Of course, yeah", Keith gave back, smiling lightly. "We can take whatever time you need, Mick", he added and Mick felt like a weight had been lifted off of him and he could properly breathe again. 

"Yeah?", he asked, hopefully. 

"Yeah", Keith nodded. "There's no need to rush. I'm right here with you", he said, still with that encouraging little smile on his lips. 

"You have no idea how much I appreciate you, Keith...I really, really do like you so bloody much", Mick replied and he couldn't stop himself from feeling somewhat giddy. It was a way of telling Keith that he loved him. Only that he couldn't get himself to speak these words now. Not yet. It was way too soon. 

"I really bloody like you too, Mick", Keith returned, a wide smile on his face that he didn't have a chance but to mirror. 

"Can I...hug you?", it was Keith who asked this time. "Cause I really want to right now", he added, still smiling at him, the look in his eyes all fond, tender.

"You don't even have to ask me that", Mick smiled at him sweetly. "You know I like that…"

"I do, too…", Keith mumbled as Mick happily embraced him, nestling his face to the crook of Keith's neck. Keith had one of his hands buried in Mick's hair, the other one tracing soft patterns on his back. They kept holding each other tightly, enjoying the other's closeness. Mick actually felt so relieved and content that without thinking further of it, he ended up pressing a small, gentle kiss to Keith's neck. He couldn't tell for how long they were sharing this embrace, it simply fel too amazing to let go. With his eyes closed, he kept fondling with Keith's hair while Keith ran his fingers over his back and ribs in small circles. Only as Mona started nudging his leg with her tiny hands, Mick was pulled back to reality. 

"Da…", she made as Mick slowly, reluctantly let go of Keith to focus his attention on his daughter. "Da", she repeated, pulling on his trousers. 

"Is she trying to say dad?", Keith mused, a big smile on his face. "Do you wanna say dad, Mona?" 

"Da...da", she made, still nudging Mick's leg. 

"Yeah, that's your dad right there, baby girl", Keith meant, pointing at Mick, making him smile. 

"Dada", Mona eventually got out in her baby jabber, looking up at Mick out of her big hazel eyes. 

"Oh my…", he mumbled, almost too taken aback by surprise about his little girl's first actual words. "Did you hear that?", he then asked, not without excitement. "Our sweet little girl said her first word", he announced all proudly, picking Mona up to hug her against his chest. "So well done, Mona...such a bright girl", he mumbled, pressing little kisses to her head. 

"Dada", Mona babbled once more and Keith quietly laughed as Mick held her safely wrapped up in his arms, the biggest smile on his lips. 

"That's right, little one", Keith said, leaning over to softly kiss her temple. 

"Looks like our beautiful girl's growing up fast", he smiled, still holding Mona close. 

"It's neither my birthday nor Christmas yet but this already feels like it...way better, actually", Keith then commented, chuckling lightly. 

"I guess that's tough to top", Mick joked but he actually meant it. For his part, Mick couldn't be any happier than he was right at that very moment. "I still got you a little something for tomorrow", he admitted, though. 

"You didn't have to", Keith said, almost coyly. 

"It will probably pale in comparison now", Mick laughed and Keith started laughing as well. 

"You're making me so happy, you know that?", Mick eventually said once they'd quieted down again. "And Mona, of course...but you...I'm so happy right now, Keith...", he trailed off. For a moment, Keith just kept looking at him all fond, before scooting a little closer, sneaking a sweet kiss to Mick's cheek. 

"I know...cause you're making me so happy, too", he admitted, gently squeezing Mick's knee as they shared a loving smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I wrote the scene with Charlie and Mick in the car, after a moment I stopped and laughed because I remembered, that actual Charlie cannot even drive xD just a fun fact for those of you who didn't know so far.
> 
> Also I hope you all watched the Stones perform on that One World Together at Home concert, if not, you definitely missed something and should check it out asap, it was so hilarious and great, especially Charlie air drumming :D


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
wow...this is it. The final chapter. Actually it was supposed to be longer, I had a whole other scene planned, but then I decided that I'll keep that one for an eventual sequel oneshot...just for the sake of being able to hold onto that story for a little while longer, because you know how dear it is to me, considering the circumstances I developed this idea and first started writing it about 9 months ago. 
> 
> I cannot believe that I actually managed to bring this to an end, because never before did I write a story this incredibly long and also not one that was this amazingly beautiful. But I don't think I could have done it without your support, so I'd like to thank each and every one of you who went on this ride with me, reading this story. And special thanks to all those of you who were kind and lovely enough to leave a kudo or comment. Seriously, I want you guys to know that some days your kudos or comments were literally the only thing cheering me up, making my day, keeping me going. So thanks a lot for that, I really love and appreciate you loads. 
> 
> Now...enjoy reading this final chapter and know this isn't the end, because I surely will write a follow-up on that, it would be wasted potential otherwise.

When Keith came home in the early evening from his afternoon guitar lesson, he found Mick standing in the kitchen, cutting vegetables. He had started teaching guitar to some kids twice a week at the school Mick was working at, after Charlie had offered him the job. One day, Charlie had listened to Mick and Keith jamming and figured Keith could use his talents to get some more kids interested in music. Since it wasn't a proper teaching job, just some after school supervision and offering extracurricular activities, it wasn't a problem at all that Keith didn't really have the necessary background. And with both Charlie and Mick having his back, his past drug addiction wasn't an obstacle either. That's why Keith had eventually agreed to it because it sounded fun and he could finally earn some proper money. Even if it wasn't much, it definitely was better than nothing at all and made him feel good about being able to contribute and do something meaningful. 

Most of the time, however, he still spent caring for Mona when Mick was teaching his classes. Taking on Charlie's offer hadn't only been an amazing idea but it also was very convenient for them. Being in charge of the time tables, obviously, Charlie would plan Mick's classes, as well as choir and big band practise during the times where Keith wasn't teaching guitar, and vice versa. Like that, they didn't have to worry about nobody being able to be there for Mona due to work. It was a great deal and they both were incredibly grateful that Charlie was supporting them like that. 

"Hey there", Keith announced, as he walked into the kitchen after hanging up his coat in the hall. 

"Hi", Mick greeted him, turning his head to give him a little smile which Keith returned. 

"What are you doing?", he wanted to know, stepping behind Mick, wrapping an arm around his chest, leaning in closer to press a soft kiss to his neck, letting his lips linger there for a moment as Mick hummed contentedly.

During the past weeks, they'd slowly been progressing from embraces and snuggles over quick, sporadic pecks to the cheek or neck to more tender gestures. Whenever one of them left the house, or came back home, they'd hug and exchange small kisses like Keith did just then. More often than not, while watching telly in the evening, or while relaxing to a record, they'd end all huddled up on the couch together, holding hands, exchanging sweet caresses, messing up each other's hair. This was about as far as they both were willing and ready to go by then. They hadn't properly kissed yet, but Keith was all fine and happy, as long as Mick was being comfortable with whatever they were doing. And they both completely enjoyed it that way. 

"Cooking dinner, you wanna help?", Mick replied as Keith took a step back again, observing the pieces of bell pepper in front of Mick. 

"Sure", he agreed, reaching for a knife and some tomatoes. "What are we having?"

"I was thinking about some vegetable quiche? I already prepared the dough", Mick let him know and Keith nodded in agreement. 

"Sounds great!", he commented, as he started cutting the tomatoes. 

"How was your guitar class?", Mick inquired before Keith could say anything else. 

"The kids are getting better every time...it's so endearing to see. They're really having fun, and so do I", he told him, a little smile tugging at his lips while telling about his afternoon. 

"Yeah, I know...it's so amazing getting to watch their progress", Mick meant, nodding lightly as he started cutting a zucchini. 

"How was your day, how's Mona doing?", Keith wanted to know then, only just noticing that he hadn't checked in on their baby before saying hi to Mick. 

"I laid her down to sleep just a few minutes ago…", Mick told him. "She seemed to be missing her pa earlier", he added, his voice sounding as gentle as the look he gave him.

Keith could only smile widely in return, a warm feeling spreading inside his chest. It were not too many words their little girl could utter already at barely ten months old. But after she had started calling Mick "dada" shortly before Christmas, a little while later, Keith had become "pa", once Mick had been prompting her to. Keith thought it was utterly adorable, one of the most exceptionable things he'd witnessed in his whole life, and it touched him more than he would ever be able to describe with simple words. 

"She did?", he asked, not able to get the happy smile off his face. 

"It was like she was asking for you, I guess", Mick mused, smiling back at him. 

"God, she's so adorable…", Keith sighed. 

"She is. Also, I think it won't take long anymore until she'll make her first steps", Mick told him, momentarily forgetting about the vegetables. 

"You think?", Keith inquired, looking up at him. 

"Yeah, always trying to pull herself up on the couch or on my leg...our little one is growing up fast", Mick laughed and had Keith join in. 

"Well, I hope we'll both be there then…", he said, getting a little excited about the prospect of their baby girl actually making her first steps. 

"Hmm?"

"When she makes her first steps…", he clarified, chuckling. 

"That would be just perfect", Mick meant, nodding eagerly. 

"It would...", Keith agreed as he focused his attention back on cutting the tomatoes.

While their dinner was baking in the oven, they went to check on Mona, who was sleeping all safe and sound, hugging her stuffed bunny closely against her side. Seeing her like that, completely sweet and adorable, Keith's heart was swelling with adoration. It didn't matter to him in the slightest that Mona wasn't his, biologically. He'd taken her to his heart like his own child a little more every single day ever since he first moved in with Mick and started being there for her almost day and night like a real parent. And Mick telling him a while ago that he thought Keith was like Mona's second dad had touched him even more profoundly, just as well as the little one actually calling him pa. Getting to raise her together with Mick, knowing Mick wanted him in Mona's life, was the most beautiful and thrilling experience he'd ever made. Not a single drug he had taken would even come close to the utter joy and pride he was feeling when being around their baby girl, watching her grow up. Mona might be Mick's in nature but she was Keith's in heart. 

"Let's clean that up tomorrow", Mick suggested as they'd finished dinner and put their dirty dishes into the sink. 

"And do what instead?", Keith wanted to know, a lopsided grin on his face because of the way Mick was smiling at him. A mixture between excitement and affection. 

"Have a dance with me?", Mick asked before he walked back into the living room, and Keith couldn't tell whether he was just joking or being serious. 

"What?", he said, as he followed him, somewhat perplexed because he'd not been expecting the question. He'd been prepared for Mick to ask him to jam together, or to watch a movie. But to dance? 

"Come on...I kinda feel like dancing", Mick prompted, giving him a cute smile as he looked through his records, trying to decide which one to put on. 

"But I can't dance", Keith objected, slightly awkward because he didn't really do dancing. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd stepped foot onto a dance floor. It probably had been ages ago. 

"You don't need to know how to dance to just hold onto me", Mick chuckled as he'd apparently settled for a record, pulling it out of its sleeve and putting it onto the player. It was something slow, blues-y, just groovy enough to not be boring, but not upbeat enough to actually pull off a proper dance. He figured he would be able to do some slow-dancing with Mick. At least, Keith was glad that he didn't expect him to whirl around to disco fox or rock'n'roll. 

"Alright then", Keith meant, grinning somewhat awkwardly as Mick held out his hand for him to grab it. "Don't say I didn't warn you if I end up stepping onto your feet", he jokingly added as he stepped closer, taking Mick's hand. 

"You're an idiot", Mick chuckled, pulling him into something like an embrace, wrapping his arms around Keith's neck. Keith slid his own arms around Mick's back, just holding him as they started swaying to the rhythm of the music. 

"How come you're feeling like dancing?", he wanted to know. They were standing so close to each other that their foreheads were almost touching and he could feel Mick's warm breath on his skin, making him get a little fuzzy. 

"I just wanted to try this with you", Mick quietly admitted, sounding almost coy now as he ducked his head a little and ended up nuzzling his face against Keith's neck. 

He thought the way Mick kept testing their boundaries, progressing further towards what they both hoped to become for each other, was amazingly sweet. Unmistakably, they were deeply fond of each other, and quite infatuated, enamoured, with each other. Over the past months, so much trust, and respect, and affection had been built between them. Their friendship had turned into something deeper, something way more beautiful and tender. But even despite both of them clearly being in love with each other, Keith didn't think of Mick and himself as lovers yet. Not quite yet. Not when they both kept chickening out at the last moment from actually, finally, sharing as much as their first real kiss. They'd both come close the past days and weeks, but didn't quite get there. Keith was aware that Mick had pulled back in the end, when they both were cuddling on the couch about two weeks prior, because he hadn't been ready then. And Keith had stopped himself from going this next step, either, because he wanted it to be Mick who set the pace for the sake of not overwhelming him. Dancing with him now, their bodies entangled, feeling Mick's face nestled against his neck, breathing in the smell of his shampoo as Keith had his own face buried in Mick's hair, was a further mile on their self-imposed, self-determined, road to happiness. 

"Do you like it?", he silently asked, his heart beating heavily in his chest as Mick was wrapped up so tightly with him that he could clearly sense the heat radiating off his body. He was sure that he could even feel Mick's heartbeat against his own chest. 

"You aren't that bad of a dancer...", Mick commented and Keith felt him smiling against his neck. 

"I'm terrible", he chuckled, but Mick only shook his head. 

"It's really nice like that...", he meant, digging his hand into Keith's hair, lightly messing it up. 

"Hmm...", Keith hummed in agreement, closing his eyes as they slowly kept swaying to the music. He was nearly mesmerised by how wonderful this very moment felt, holding Mick, drawing little patterns on his back, their bodies fitting together smoothly and neatly as if they were destined to be engulfed in each other like that. Only as Mick started spreading sweet kisses onto his neck, Keith snapped out of his almost dream-like state. Slowly he leaned back a little in order to be able to look at Mick's face. 

"Keith…", Mick started, his voice barely more than a whisper as he stared at him out of big blue eyes, looking obviously nervous. He stopped, apparently not sure how to express himself, or what to say. 

"It's okay", Keith simply said, not quite knowing what he actually meant because he had no clue what Mick even wanted to utter. "It's okay", he repeated, nodding lightly, as in encouragement. A little smile crept onto his face as Mick kept holding his gaze, the sentiment in his eyes being pure tenderness. 

Slowly, Mick entangled his hand from Keith's hair, resting it against his cheek instead. Keith's breath hitched for a second as Mick's index finger gently trailed the outline of his earlobe and he couldn't do anything else but lean into Mick's touch because it was such an amazing feeling. He ended up mirroring this gesture, his thumb ghosting over Mick's lips for a moment before his hand came to rest against his cheek. 

"You're so beautiful", was all Keith could manage to say because being this close to Mick, it was tough keeping coherent thoughts in his mind. Not when Mick looked at him all loving, and quite a bit excited, with a cute smile on his face. Not when what was bound to eventually happen seemed almost inevitable, and made Keith get all nervous and giddy at the same time. 

"And you", Mick only returned, sounding clearly flustered as he shortly averted his gaze. 

"Mick…", Keith brought out, almost inaudible, his voice sounding odd to his own ears because his mouth had turned so dry. He barely could stand it a moment longer like this, didn't want for Mick to change his mind again at the very last instant. Not when it all seemed to be just about perfect this time. And apparently, Mick seemed to be thinking the same. 

"Can I...can I kiss you?", Mick eventually dared to ask, once he had focused his eyes back on Keith's. He sounded a little nervous, but the look in his eyes was assured, and his smile oh so affectionate.

Unable to reply anything because he was way too captivated, Keith only nodded, before Mick leaned in closer until their lips finally brushed against the other's for the first time. Keith closed his eyes shut, relishing in the sensation of Mick's soft lips slowly moving against his own. It was a gentle, nearly shy kiss, both of them testing the waters. Eventually, Keith cupped both of Mick's cheeks to bring him a little closer, opening his mouth, letting out a little sigh when Mick slid his tongue inside, deepening their kiss. Mick tasted sweet like the red wine they had with their dinner, and kissing him like that made Keith get all light-headed. He was completely engrossed in Mick, getting lost in the moment, as he was acting on pure instinct, being reduced to his senses. The sole thing he could feel was Mick's warm body wrapped up in his, and the tender touch of his lips. The sole thing he could taste was his sweet scent, and the sole thing he could hear was the content little noises escaping Mick's mouth. Drowning out everything around them, being a much lovelier sound than the music playing in the background. 

As they finally had to break apart to gasp for air, their cheeks were flushed, their lips slightly swollen, and their hair completely messed up. With their foreheads leaning against the other's, they were smiling at each other all giddy and enamoured, still holding on to each other tightly. 

"Wow...that was…", Keith got out, a little breathless, as he wasn't able to put words to his feelings and instead ended up grinning like a lovestruck schoolboy. His chest seemed like imploding because of how incredibly happy and content he felt. He was entirely delighted, almost enchanted by how amazing and wonderful this first kiss had been. And Keith definitely couldn't be any more glad to have waited for it until now because all the anticipation and excitement had been absolutely worth it, it had been exactly right and breathtakingly beautiful.

"Bloody perfect", Mick finished the sentence for him, sounding as exhilarated as Keith felt as he could only nod eagerly in agreement. Then Mick gave him the sweetest, loveable, smile before capturing Keith's lips once again in another gentle kiss. 

And in this very moment, Keith was entirely sure that Mick was everything he needed in his life and everything he had always been looking for. That him and Mona were more than enough reason, all the reason, for Keith to never want to touch drugs again. Because there wasn't a single drug in the world that could ever compare to what he felt like when being with Mick and kissing him like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for your support. I'm already about to start working on at least one other story. It's gonna be a fluffy slow-burn once again, this time without all the incredible sadness and tragic tho. Hope to be able to start posting this soon. Until then, stay safe :)


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